Planet of the Cybermen
by LaurenceCartwright
Summary: The Cybermen are turning desperate. They need to repopulate, and fast. As a result, they turn to an unlikely ally to save them. But can he be trusted? And how will the Doctor deal with the upcoming crisis? Or is this just one world saving attempt too far for him?
1. Arctic Steel

**AN: This is my second Fanfic, although the first was a little rushed. I shall be updating this over time, so hopefully this one will be slightly better-written. I hope that there will be some unlikely surprises that you were not expecting. I know the Doctor is missing in this update, but he will appear, I promise. I want to be able to improve my writing abilities, so please comment as honestly as you can. Enjoy! =)**

* * *

The road lay cold and bare. It always was in the Greenlandic town of Ilunavik, no matter what time of year. Whilst the summer sun shone 24 hours per day here, it was not a hot sun. Snow lay around, although at this time of year, there were some shades of green trying to seep through.

The area around was covered in brightly coloured buildings. They were well-insulated, and just as well, as this was where the 1300-strong population of the town lived, worked and spent their entire lives. However, one building stood out from the rest. It lay on the road, just to the outskirts of the settlement, and was, unlike the local custom, metallic silver. Nobody knew what it was for. Nobody knew when it was built, or why, or how. Nobody even cared.

A man and a woman walked along the road, arm in arm. Thick fur coats surrounded them, and they were so close together, it looked like one coat combined. They walked slowly, without a care in the world except each other and the local scenery, until they encountered the strange silver building. They both turned. They didn't even have to communicate with each other, they just did it. The door was open, so they walked through it. Nobody saw what had happened, but they vanished inside the building. A short while later, two metal robots walked out of the other end of the building. They looked identical to each other, with blank, metallic faces, completely silver bodies, and handles above their heads. They were Cybermen. The man and the woman who walked into the building, however, were never seen again.

Elias and Nilak Erinaq were well-known in Ilunavik. It would come to some surprise, then, that their mysterious disappearance was never to be noticed by the local population. Both were from fairly large families, with Elias having seven sisters and two brothers, most of who were still in the area. But none of them cared. They all _knew_ that they were gone, but it didn't matter. They had just been forgotten. What might have been considered as even more unusual, however, is that nobody seemed to panic about two metal beings wondering around the icy streets, among the local residents. As with the disappearance, everyone _knew _about them being there, and some had even theorised that they were Elias and Nilak, but it didn't faze anybody in the area.

* * *

A Cyberman stopped an elderly woman in the street. "Have you been to the silver building to the West of the town?" it asked her.

"No, I haven't," she replied. It didn't come across as odd that a metal man had asked her this at all.

"I would recommend going inside."

"Well, thank you for the suggestion," she said, cheerily.

The two Cybermen wondered the streets, giving their advice to the townsfolk. For a few days, everybody felt obliged to check out the mysterious silver building. Eventually, some people actually started to enter, causing their disappearance, and the emergence of more Cybermen. Word was now able to travel more quickly about the building, causing an exponential rate of Cyberman manufacture, and the same rate of missing people. All of which went uncared about. Or, at least, almost uncared about.

* * *

Nine days after the first Cybermen had spawned, a young woman named Laila stood outside the entrance of the metal building. The 'Cyber Factory,' she called it. A middle-aged man walked up to the entrance, which was still open, as though he was going to walk inside.

"Excuse me," Laila said to him, "You don't want to go in there."

"And why would that be?" the man replied.

"Because of these things around us? The Cybermen? This is where they are being made."

The man looked puzzled. "So?" he asked.

"Think of all those people going missing. And all these Cybermen. It doesn't take a fool to work out that this is where they are coming from. They're us!"

"I'm sorry; I really can't follow your way of thinking. Why exactly are you trying to get me out of here?"

Frustration started to build up inside Laila. How could he not see that this was happening? Why couldn't anybody? What was going on? And why wasn't it affecting her? What was so special about her that she was exempt from what was going on? She had to work this out, because nobody else was. When she was done, she was going to return home, and try to figure out the situation, what had caused it and how it could be solved.

A Cyberman walked up to her and the man. "What is going on here?" it demanded.

Laila looked at the figure. It towered over her, fearsomely, with a blank expression that she was unable to read. This was perhaps more scary than a sinister expression. Its voice was monotone to match its face, again, scarier than speaking with an evil laugh between every other word.

The man found it less daunting. "She's trying to stop me from entering the building," he complained to the Cyberman.

"Rogue element," it announced, looking at Laila. It put a terrifying silver metallic hand on her shoulder. Laila's heart rate increased beyond anything she had ever known. "Must be deleted. Delete!" continued the beast. It did not move its mouth to speak, but instead flashed a blue light where its mouth should be.

An electric pulse travelled through the glove and into Laila's shoulder. She felt an immense pain, before feeling nothing from the shock. Suddenly, it seemed that all of her plans were not going to happen. She started to drift out of consciousness, before dropping to the ground, dead. The Cyberman stared at her body, briefly, before turning to face the man who had witnessed this.

"The female chose to defy the Cybermen. She was deleted," it said to him, "You may choose otherwise, and be upgraded. You could become one of us."

The man nodded at the Cyberman gracefully, before proceeding to enter the building. Out of the other end exited yet another Cyberman, and the man was never to be seen again. Snow started to fall on the corpse outside the building. It would soon be covered up and forgotten about, just like all the local residents had been beforehand. Two hundred Cybermen now walked the streets.

* * *

From a distance, a boy had been watching the drama that had unfolded outside the building. He was as terrified as she must have been. His name was Inuk Erneq, was fourteen years old, and he could think of nothing else to do except to run home to his mother, his older sister and a Cyberman, who had arrived in place of his dad two days ago.

The following evening, what remained of the Erneq family sat down to dinner, alongside their new arrival. The dining room was a snug space, but it was warm and cosy and welcoming, which Inuk took comfort in, especially given the terrible circumstances. A snowstorm wailed against the house, but that was the least of his worries. He had witnessed a murder, which is something nobody should have to endure, let alone a child. Just to add sprinkles to this, a Cyberman sat across the table, staring at him, from where he used to be able to see his dad. He had kind, assuring eyes, which made Inuk feel safe. The Cyberman did not. The blank expression became more and more intimidating the longer he saw it.

Inuk's mother made a stew. She had made three portions – one for herself, one for Inuk, and one for his sister. The Cyberman did not eat. It had never even joined the family at the dinner table until tonight. He wasn't sure whether he appreciated this change.

"I know what we can do after dinner," began the Cyberman. Inuk knew what was coming next. "Why don't we all go to the silver building to the West of the settlement?"

"I say, that's a fantastic idea," replied Inuk's mother, "It would be a nice family outing." It was almost as though she didn't know that she was married to a Cyberman.

"I'm up for it too," said Inuk's sister, "Inuk?"

Inuk didn't know how to respond. He wanted to save his family. But he didn't want to be killed unnecessarily like Laila had. "I'd love to," he announced, finally. It was the only way to not get deleted on the spot, he thought.

"Excellent," said the Cyberman, "Lovely weather for it too."

The family agreed, which occurred to Inuk as being the oddest behaviour he had witnessed that evening. It was horrible weather out there.

The family stepped out of their house, and into the icy Arctic wind. Inuk could barely see in front of his face, which began the process of freezing off. He was terrified of what might happen next. He didn't want to become a Cyberman. He liked being human. He could enjoy life as it was. He even pondered death as a human over life as a Cyberman.

After a ten-minute walk through the storm, the clan arrived at the silver building. Inuk looked down by the entrance. A mound had formed in the snow. It was where the corpse of Laila lay, untouched, but now buried, respectfully as she deserved. She had been brave to defy the Cybermen, Inuk thought. Maybe he could do the same? He broke off from his family. This wasn't hard to do, as visibility was incredibly poor. He watched his mum and his sister enter the building. He knew that it was the last he'd see of them. A tear formed in his eye, before freezing. He left the building, trudging away from the town. He knew that if he avoided it, there would be no Cybermen. It would be freezing, and there could even be a polar bear, but he took the risk.

* * *

Inuk arrived home an hour later, and stared through the window, to find it inhabited by three Cybermen. The cosy rugs in the dining room and the living room had been removed, giving the house a soulless feel about it. The table had been removed from the dining room, as it was unnecessarily using up space, as had the telly from the living room, and the sofa. The Cybermen were removing the kitchen units, as they weren't needed either. He had never been so alone. He had to find someone else. Laila knew before she died, so there _must _be somebody else out there. He could only hope.

He left the house, trying to find people, to warn them of the danger. Every conversation reminded him of the conversation he witnessed with Laila, and caused him to feel her frustration. He yawned. It was getting late. The sun was still as bright as ever, but he knew it was late. It's an instinct you learn in the Arctic Circle. He found an abandoned building, with intent on spending the night there. If a Cyberman found him, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He just needed someone else.

Inuk walked into the building. It was surprisingly well-furbished for an abandoned building. An elderly gentleman approached him inside the building. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Inuk wanted to cry. He was warmer now, so it might be possible. "Are you scared of the Cybermen?" asked the man. Inuk nodded. A look of joy spread across the face of the old man. Inuk saw this, and started to feel better than he had for what had seemed an age.

"My name is Hans," said the man, "Do not worry. We will find a way out."

A month passed, and it seemed that Inuk and Hans had worked out how they were going to warn the world of its upcoming peril. They had been joined by two other residents, a man and a woman, both middle-aged, named Karl and Kirsten respectively. Progress looked good, Inuk had a family again, and an escape looked likely.

By now, the entire population of Ilunavik had been converted, except for the four living in the house.


	2. A Mysterious Guest

**AN: The man in this chapter may remind you of a popular British actor who shall remain nameless here. But I just think he would be so good in this role.**

* * *

Gallifrey stood as tall as it had ever done. Sure, it was in a pocket universe, and not the real one, but that didn't matter. The stock markets boomed inside the Citadel, with the rich, as majestic as ever in their blazing red cloaks and distinct golden neckpieces, prospering from big intraplanetary business. One day, it seemed, they would be able to come back, and star as the greatest civilisation in the Universe once again.

This much could not be said for the ordinary townsfolk of the Citadel, however. Poverty was at an all-time high level, as those who were unable to make the higher classes struggled with day-to-day life. Regeneration rates among the poor were at an all-time high. If you looked at some of the less well-off areas from one of the towers, you could almost make out a bright yellow glow of Artron energy somewhere below you.

Above the bright orange sky, a Cybership soared, circling the planet at an appropriately high speed, considering that the inhabiting Cybermen wanted to stay there. They were the last of the Cybermen, except for those newly created on the Earth, and were getting desperate. But they were looking like salvation may finally have come to their kind, after all these years. The ship had ridden its way through a large space-time crack that had appeared in space, and it looked like Gallifrey may finally have an answer for them.

A male Time Lord strolled across the ship's parliamentary deck. He was a shady character, with dark curly hair, and a long dark coat – not the royal red that you might expect a Gallifreyan to wear. He was a head shorter than the Cybermen standing beside him as he walked, his footsteps chinking on the metal floor, which matched the metal walls and metal ceiling, but his height did not make him seem in any less control of where he was. He approached the Cyber Controller, who was sat connected to his steel throne.

"What is the status report of the Cyber Factories?" the Time Lord asked. His voice had a deep and sinister quality to it.

"Cyber Factories are ready for full global operation," replied the Cyber Controller. It was as in control of the situation as the Time Lord was. "Your mind control has worked well my colleague. Very few people are questioning what is happening to the people they love. They are able to think like a Cyberman. You have unusual qualities."

"Don't flatter me," the Time Lord responded immediately, "I know how clever I am without you telling me, is that clear?" The Cyber Controller was not intimidated by this outburst.

"Affirmative," it agreed.

"How's Ilunavik coming along? Have they all been upgraded yet?"

"13,046 Cybermen. Four humans," the Controller read out, "The humans have not been affected by the mind control."

"Well then. That means that they aren't going to obediently follow in your footsteps." The Time Lord spoke quickly, as though he was in a hurry. "And if they aren't going to do that, then they aren't going to be any use to us. This makes them rogue elements. So the only option here is deletion." He was well aware that the Controller knew this, but he had to spell it out anyway.

The Cyber Controller turned to a crack in the wall of the ship. An identical crack opened up in the wall of the Ilunavik Cyber Factory. The Controller spoke through his communicator device, which linked up with all other Cyber technology.

"There are four rogue elements located in the settlement," he stated, "They must be deleted."

* * *

It wasn't long before the survivors were found by a group of half a dozen Cybermen. One Cyberman opened up a visual link to the ship, which appeared as a hologram on board.

"You shall come with us," ordered one Cyberman.

Karl pulled out a rifle, usually used to shoot attacking polar bears. He shot the commanding Cyberman. The Cyberman took a couple of steps backwards, before staying on its feet.

"Yeh!" started Karl, "Come near us now!"

"This shall not be necessary," said the Cyberman. A tube came out of its right wrist. A zap came from it, going straight towards Karl, who fell over backwards, stone dead.

Hans stepped forward. "I'd rather die than become one of you!" he proclaimed.

"Delete!" cried the Cyberman, and Hans' body fell on top of Karl's.

Kirsten and Inuk had their arms wrapped tightly around each other, in fear of what was to come. Two Cybermen marched into the house, over the top of the two dead bodies, with no respect for them. They crouched beside the two humans, stretched out an arm each, and placed it on their shoulders. "Delete!" they said in unison. Moments later, there were no longer any humans left in Ilunavik.

* * *

The Time Lord watched with intent, over what was had happened. The Cyber Controller watched his every move, to make sure he was really as cold and logical as it had required.

"Humans deleted," began the Cyber Controller without pausing, "Let the global upgrade begin." The Controller, using its vast, once human mind, joint with the power that came from being connected to the ship through its throne, opened up the 16,384 Cyber Factories around the Earth – a power of two, which was the Cybermen's favourite type of number.

"What the Earth really needs now is a Doctor," explained the Time Lord, "Unfortunately for them; I have that issue covered up too."

"I heard that consuming drinks is a custom of celebration where you are from," the Controller said, "Here."

A glass filled with Gallifreyan wine came down from the ceiling, in a holder, which stopped where the Time Lord was standing. He took the glass, held it towards his mouth, and started laughing to himself.

"This glass is poisoned," he said, throwing it to the floor and smashing it, wine spilling everywhere, "You thought you could mess with me. Do I have to remind you that I single-handedly conquered Gallifrey? Do you know who you are messing with?"

"We were offering you your own custom," explained the Cyber Controller.

"Cybermen have no identity," he began, hurriedly as ever, "Why would you offer anything outside your normal ways." He looked at his wristwatch, "In precisely one minute and 18 seconds, a powerful bomb will go off somewhere on this ship, blowing it up. The upgrades shall continue as planned, but you will not."

"Not true," insisted the Controller, "You would go down with it."

"Controller, how many Cyber Pods are there on this deck?"

"Sixty-four."

"Are you sure about that?"

The Cyber Controller scanned the room. "Sixty-five."

The Time Lord walked up to a pod. "This isn't a real pod," he said, "It's my TARDIS."

"How are you going to proceed without a Cyber Controller," the Controller asked.

"If you listened carefully earlier, I already told you. Bye!" The Time Lord entered his TARDIS.

A bright glow appeared in the Gallifreyan sky. From it, the TARDIS flew away, and into the crack which loomed alongside the planet, as though it was about to swallow it, ironically as it already had. The next location of the Time Lord: Earth. Where he knew the Doctor would be waiting for him.


	3. Cybermen in London

**AN: They have arrived!**

* * *

Clara looked at the Doctor, completely in shock. His young face had gone, and in its place stood a new face, older and greyer, his chin having suddenly just disappeared into nothingness. She and the new Doctor ran around the TARDIS, as it moved around, shaking, completely out of control. This new incarnation might have been older, but he was no less athletic. Clara didn't know how to fly this thing, as the Doctor had asked her. She sensed there was going to be a crash any minute. And then they'd be really lost. Her body was thrust onto a rail, as the TARDIS shuddered suddenly. And then it stopped. The TARDIS was gliding along gracefully, like it was supposed to. Clara had no idea what could have caused this change. A laugh came from behind her. She turned around, to face the Doctor.

"I take it you don't," he said, having suddenly adopted an unlikely Scottish accent, "so it's just as well that I do. Haha! Your face!"

"You really are just a mean old man," Clara responded, crossly, but with a hint of light-heartedness in her voice.

"I'm sorry. Regeneration changes people."

"Well, not in this case." Both TARDIS occupants laughed off the anguish that had just built up between them.

Before long, the TARDIS landed. London. England. Earth. It largely contrasted the war-torn setting that they had left behind on Trenzalore. The hustle and bustle of the city streets was present as ever, with people of all different backgrounds and stories and livelihoods wondering about the place. It was the height of summer, and the sun made no bones about this fact. It was sweltering. Having spent so long away, the Doctor could barely remember this world. The people. The diversity. And their ability to live their lives through everything that could go wrong, regardless. It felt good to be back. Until the Doctor noticed a strange object in the distance.

"What's that in the distance?" he asked, "Is that what I think it is?"

The being moved closer to him and Clara. It was tall and silver, made of metal, and had handles on its head. "Cyberman!" he announced.

Clara could remember the Cybermen very distinctly in her head. They had terrified her, with their blank metal faces and endless ability to prevent their own destruction. They just upgraded to meet their needs. It was as though a Cyber network of some kind just offered them what they needed, when they needed it. A bit like downloading software from the internet, only used for survival and for killing. Maybe they upgraded via the internet itself. That was a scary thought. What seemed strange, however, was that the Cyberman was able to wonder through the streets of London without scaring anybody, or causing panic. It moved as always, but it seemed as though it could use stealth. In plain sight. This was impressive for a 2m tall metal beast.

"How does a Cyberman walk across London without causing panic?" he asked Clara. He had had a fairly easy regeneration compared to normal, probably because he spent so long over it on Trenzalore, but it still wasn't perfect. As a result, he failed to spot that 'Clara' was a random woman who was passing by.

"Well," explained the passer-by, "How do _you_ walk across London without causing panic?"

"Because I'm not a Cyberman."

The woman started to become irritated. "You're one of those anti-Cyberman nutters, aren't you!" she exclaimed angrily. "You know what you are? Racist!" She turned around and left him in disgust. This Doctor hadn't made a very good start in terms of public relations. A Cyberman, walking in the opposite direction to the first, stopped the angry woman in the street.

"Excuse me," it said to her, "Do you know a good place to visit?"

The woman started to lose the anger she was feeling. How could that dreadful man not see the helpfulness of this being? "Where would that be?" she asked.

"Battersea Power Station. I suggest you go there in the near future."

"Excellent idea," she replied. She felt urged to prove a point to the man she had just met. As a result, she got into the first taxi that arrived, to take her there immediately.

Another taxi arrived soon afterwards. The Doctor entered it. Clara followed him. She knew exactly where she was going.

* * *

Battersea Power Station had always looked threatening from ground level, ever since it was built. It was incomprehensively large for a brick-built building, with its four massive chimneys standing over 100m high. And, just to add to that, the Cybermen were using it to convert people into terrifying metal beasts. It had begun to turn into a dead wasteland since it was disused, but it was back to its former intimidating glory.

The Doctor found this situation all too familiar. In the parallel universe he had visited, the Cybermen were using Battersea to convert the locals. Events often repeated between parallel universes, and now, eight years after the other universe, it was happening here. At least this version didn't have a massive zeppelin parked on top of it. Another big, and more noteworthy difference was that unlike the massive crowds of emotionless, zombie-like people that the Doctor had witnessed entering the other Battersea, there were very few people around. And no Cybermen in the vicinity, either. Just a few people walking by, and wondering in, as though they weren't about to be turned into Cybermen.

A protest group stood outside the entrance. They waved banners, reading 'Down with the Cybermen!' and similar messages, whilst announcing their thoughts through a speakerphone. Some prospective Cybermen just ignored them. Others gave them some fairly strong verbal abuse. The Doctor felt as though, in his new form, he would be more willing to respond to them with equal strength. But, being him, he prevented himself and instead walked up to the protestors.

"You're not the crazy ones," the Doctor said to them, assuringly, as he approached. He seemed a more mature and reassuring, fatherly figure than he had done previously.

Clara followed him. "So _he_ says," she responded, sarcastically.

"I can't believe they're just walking in," a blonde woman in her early twenties said to the Doctor, "Do they not _know_ what's happening to them?"

"Oh, they know alright," explained the Doctor, "but they don't _care_." It was the only explanation he had, although, inversely to this, he cared but did not know why this was. But he was figuring it out, because that's just what he did. Like he had done all his lives before this one.

"My name's Rose," the woman said. The Doctor stared at her for a moment. She was _a_ Rose, but she wasn't _his_ Rose. Or, at least, the same Rose that he had forgotten about during his time on Trenzalore. To be honest, he had forgotten about the entire Earth whilst on Trenzalore. And now he was back, facing the world he left behind. After a while, he responded. "The Doctor," he said, shaking her hand, "Lovely to meet you." He meant it.

Before there was enough time to continue the introductory process, or for the Doctor to ask any meaningful questions, one of the signs suddenly burnt to a crisp, and the man standing behind the sign dropped dead. The Doctor and Clara instantly turned around.

"Rogue elements! Delete!" cried the Cyberman that was walking towards them, arm outstretched.

"Run!" shouted the Doctor. He grabbed Rose's hand. The Cyberman kept shooting protestors, who tried to run around the corner of the immense building. Only the Doctor, Clara, Rose and a man in his early thirties made it around. Running was another thing that the Doctor had forgotten while on Trenzalore, he remembered. But he did not miss it. A tall wooden fence rose high next to where the group was standing. The gigantic brick wall of the power station was on the other side.

"We've got to keep moving!" exclaimed the man. He ran along the passage created by the fence and the wall. He suddenly fell over backwards, letting out a short scream before dying. Another Cyberman was walking towards the remaining trio along the passage. They turned around. The first Cyberman was advancing towards them.

"Don't worry," the Doctor said, calmly, "There's always a way out." He pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He looked at the fence. "It doesn't do wood," he complained. He turned around, and pointed it at the wall. "It's not particularly good at brick, either".

"So what's your brilliant way out then?" asked Clara, sceptically.

"Ummm…" the Doctor pondered. He started trying to climb the wall. He wasn't going to get up there quickly enough.

"That's a shame," said Rose, "I was going to give you the contact details of this brilliant guy in Copenhagen that I met on the internet. I had a real inkling that you could help us by meeting him." She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Now, instead, it looks like we're all going to di-i-i…"

Before she could finish her sentence, a terrifying metal glove had placed itself on her shoulder. She was dead within moments. The Doctor stared at the Cyberman that had just killed Rose. The Cyberman stared back at the Doctor. Clara stared at the other Cyberman. The other Cyberman stared back at Clara. Nobody was being killed here.

"You shall be spared," said the Doctor's Cyberman. The Doctor picked up the piece of paper from Rose's pocket. He didn't ask questions, but walked past the Cyberman that had just spoken, eyeing it angrily on the way out. Clara followed him away from the scene. She did not try to converse with the Doctor. His face was different, but she recognised his expression all too well. He had that stony, guilty look about him that would always follow his failure to save people. Although he had only just met Rose, Clara could tell that she had reminded him of someone. Someone who was, or had been, close to him. And now, he had failed to save her again.

Silence remained between both people. The only time either of them spoke was when they had encountered a Cyberman, who tried to encourage them towards Battersea. Unlike the Doctor, who just kept walking, Clara stopped. "Yeh…sure…I'll check it out sometime," she replied, followed by a forced smile. She carried on, rushing a little to catch the Doctor.

After walking for what felt like an age, but really wasn't, they approached the TARDIS. The Doctor pulled the key from his coat pocket and turned it in the lock. He entered. He was going to go to Copenhagen, to sort this out once and for all. And Clara was going to come with him, as his loyal companion, to help him sort this out once and for all. That's the way it was. This had always been the case with the Doctor. But now, with this new face, he was more intent on making this happen, with the regret of those already lost burning through him. Gone was the flamboyant dancing around the console that Clara used to witness from the younger version of the Time Lord. In its place was a more serious version of him, and in some ways, darker. This idea frightened Clara, but she still felt safe around him. Because he was still the Doctor, and she knew that if she trusted him, she would always be safe. Whatever the face, whatever the circumstances. No exceptions.


	4. Search for a Lost Civilisation

Britain is a country of notoriously poor weather. It was ironic, then, that Copenhagen was somehow lacking in the intense summer heat that London had. Despite London's relatively tropical setting, the suburban area that surrounded the Doctor and Clara when the TARDIS had materialised was a much greener, cleaner and more picturesque place. It was no wonder that the Danish population were among the happiest on Earth. Apart from the Danish Cybermen, of course. Like all other Cybermen, their programming allowed no sense of happiness. Or any kind of emotion, for that matter.

"It's not all bad," said the Doctor, "I'm starting to adjust to the colour of my kidneys again now."

Clara wanted to raise her hand to her forehead in embarrassment, but she was too glad that the Doctor had regained his spark after their walk through London.

The duo walked up to a house. "This is the place," the Doctor said to Clara. He rang the doorbell. A man answered it.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Are you Mathias Magnusson?" asked the Doctor.

"That would be me."

"My name's Clara and this is the Doctor," explained Clara, "We were told that you had some useful information about the Cybermen."

"Well, this is flattering," said Mathias, "People coming from all the way from Scotland and England to find me."

"Since when were you Scottish?" the Doctor asked Clara.

"He's talking about you," responded Clara.

The Doctor looked surprised. "Me? Scottish?"

"You have picked up quite a strong Scottish accent since you regenerated. Did you not notice?"

"That's odd. Only two planets in the Universe have a Scotland. And Gallifrey isn't one of them."

"What are you talking about?" asked Mathias, looking confused.

"I'm an alien from outer space," explained the Doctor, "I'm extremely clever and just what you need right now."

"Modesty isn't one of his strong points," stated Clara.

Mathias wasn't shocked by this revelation. He had seen metal beings wondering the streets as though it were normal. They must have been from outer space too – they were way too clever for any human to have made. "Outer space?" he asked, "That's quite a way to come. Who sent you?"

"A woman named Rose," replied the Doctor, "She gave me your contact details."

"Oh, Rose. Yes, I know who you mean. How is she?"

"Dead."

Mathias' face fell. "Oh," he said, "a pity." There was a short pause. "You want to come in?" Mathias finally requested, "I have something I need to show you."

The house was snug compared to the nippy outside. The extent of the insulation was clear – no heating was on, but the difference was made. The walls of the living room were well decorated, allowing plenty of light. Mathias arrived holding a laptop with the Doctor and Clara on the sofa. He put it on a coffee table, to show them, and sat beside them.

"I have found a list on the Danish government website, regarding the Danish territory of Greenland," he explained, "It shows a list of settlements and their populations. However," he changed to a different tab, "according to this press release from just two months ago, this town, Ilunavik, exists with a population of 1,300 people. And now it's mysteriously disappeared."

"Could it have been missed my mistake," asked Clara, "Greenland's a big place with very few people. Towns must be easy to miss there."

"That would be possible. But it's disappeared. No trace of it whatsoever."

"And you're suggesting that this is involved with the Cybermen?" suggested the Doctor.

"I reckon," replied Mathias, "that the Cybermen based themselves there."

The Doctor leapt up from the sofa. "That's it!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Ilunavik is an extremely hard place to find on a map, it's remote, and nobody's heard of it. If it mysteriously disappeared, nobody would notice. Oh, Mathias! Good work finding it!" He hugged him, taking him by surprise a little. "Come on Clara," he said, starting to prance out of the door, "Let's go to Greenland."

Clara bid goodbye to Mathias, and left the house, for yet another TARDIS trip. Mathias waved them off, then returned inside and picked up the phone. He rang it.

"Hello, Mathias," a deep, intelligent voice called down the phone, "Anything to report?"

"The Doctor is on his way," answered Mathias, satisfied, "He's off to Ilunavik."

"Good work, Mathias. There's a Cyber Factory down the bottom of Valby Langgade. Knock yourself out."

"Thank you, sir." Mathias put the phone down, and walked calmly out of the door. Before long, he would be flesh no longer.

* * *

The TARDIS materialised in an icy location. The Doctor and Clara stepped out. Clara walked back in, before promptly stepping back out again with a fur coat on. Copenhagen seemed quite lovely compared with here. The streets were populated, as with London and Copenhagen, with people, although the odd Cyberman was still visible.

"This can't be Ilunavik," observed Clara.

"Well, of course it isn't," replied the Doctor, "Nobody knows where Ilunavik is. How are we supposed to find it? This is Nuuk, the capital of Greenland."

"So what do we do now? Find a rebel group? Ask the government?"

"No." The Doctor stopped a passing Cyberman. "Excuse me," he said, "Where can I get an upgrade?"

"Reykjavik, Iceland," the Cyberman responded.

"Isn't there a place up in Ilunavik?"

"Ilunavik is out of bounds."

"Yeh, but, I have a lot of family up there, and I want to upgrade where they did. Any chance of an exception?"

"Ilunavik is out of bounds."

"Really?"

"Ilunavik is out of bounds." The Cyberman turned and left. The Doctor had no idea how they were going to get there. At this moment, a metal spaceship soared across the sky overhead, heading north. The locals didn't particularly notice. Much unlike the Doctor.

"Cybership," observed the Doctor, "We need to follow it. Let's go!" He dashed into the TARDIS.

"You're not taking me somewhere even colder, are you, Doctor?" Clara asked.

"A little," replied the Doctor. He launched the TARDIS upwards, grabbing control of the scanner as the machine jerked around violently. The scanner showed the business end of the Cybership. "We need to follow that ship, Clara," he announced, "keep an eye on this scanner, and make sure we're not losing it. And tell me when it lands."

After two minutes of the TARDIS moving around, with the Doctor hanging on and pressing buttons and pulling levers for dear life, the ship on the scanner began to move downwards. "The ship is on its way down," observed Clara. The Doctor pulled a lever, and the TARDIS began to materialise at ground level.

* * *

The Doctor and Clara looked out to the town. A silver Cyber Factory sat beside them. The town itself was lifeless, except for a few Cybermen wondering around the streets. The brightly coloured houses remained, but they all had sophisticated-looking technological metal bits coming off them, ruining the simplicity that had characterised them. A man with dark curly hair came was walking along the road, his long dark coat making his walk look more deadly than it was. As he approached, he started talking in a deep, intelligent voice.

"Hello, Doctor," he said, "How did you like my little treasure hunt?"

The Doctor didn't recognise his face or his voice, but he knew the man underneath immediately. "Master," he acknowledged him.

"Oh good, you recognised me," the Master responded with a slight smile. He talked as he got closer, quickly as though he couldn't possibly fit everything in, "I knew you would. It was easier for me, because of your box. Always a giveaway. That and the fact that I brought you here."

"You brought me here?" asked the Doctor, "How?"

"That Cybership was ready for the moment you and your box would appear in Nuuk. I knew you'd go there, after Mathias sent you." The Master started to give a satisfied smile over his work.

"How did you know about Mathias?"

"Because I asked him to send you. He's CyberMathias now. Remember Rose? She was free from the network. Take a look at this face." He had stopped walking, and stood a few steps away from the Doctor. A hologram appeared in the sky, showing the Doctor's stony face from the scene of Rose's death, as he faced the Cyberman.

"Who the hell's that?" asked the Doctor.

"That's you," answered Clara, "That's what you look like now."

"I'm a little older than I was. But not bad considering. I reckon I could live with this face. Has a certain Roman feel about it."

The Master sighed. "You've always been easily side-tracked, Doctor," he complained, "Let's get back to the subject of my international excellence and superior brainpower."

"Oh, great, an intelligence duel," moaned Clara, "Don't you Time Lords ever have anything better to do?"

"How did you find all these people?" asked the Doctor.

"Here's how," the Master began. Images started to show up where the Doctor's face image had been. "London. Copenhagen. Tokyo. New York. The middle of the Algerian desert. There are Cybermen everywhere, and there are more Cybermen being made all over the world. I could find these people no problem at all." He looked at his watch. "You may ask one more question before these two Cybermen behind me kill you and your human friend."

The Doctor was leaning against the driver's door of a left-hand drive snow-modified pick-up truck. He had noticed that Clara was leaning against the passenger door next to him. He gave her the nod.

"If you are going to do a confrontation, Master," he said, "Don't let them stand in front of a car." He sonicked the door, after which he and Clara opened their respective doors, and entered the car. He sonicked the ignition, and hit the gas. The truck didn't move. He kept trying the sonic on the ignition. Nothing was happening. The Master entered through the front passenger door.

"Doctor," he said, "you are easily fooled." He fired his laser screwdriver at his side of the dashboard. A transparent screen appeared, encasing the Master in his own, protected space. A steering wheel and pedals appeared out of the dash and floor respectively. Meanwhile, two Cybermen entered the rear of the car, one through each door, the left one pushing Clara into the middle seat. The Master drove off.

The Doctor frantically pressed his sonic screwdriver against the lock of the car door. "Deadlocked," said the Master. There's no way out. And you can't distract me and take over either." He tapped the screen four times. "Ah, it's good to release that drumbeat." He kept tapping the screen in a rhythm of four. "Did you know that this beat is subtly going through everybody's heads right now? They can't even hear it. But they know what it's telling them. Do not worry about the Cybermen. They are coming to get you, but it's ok. Unless you're in the lucky 0.4%. But then you'll be deleted at some point, so maybe not so lucky." This new Master didn't half enjoy talking about his accomplishments.

The Doctor turned to Clara. "Don't worry," he said, soothingly, "I can get you out. I promise." The Doctor may have had a different face, but he was still the saviour that Clara always knew him as.

The Master turned. "Cybermen!" he demanded. He started to slow down.

The left-hand Cyberman grabbed Clara by the arm. Clara let out a short shriek. Both Cybermen opened their respective doors, and leaped out of them. Clara was dragged out of the truck by the Cyberman which had grabbed her.

"Clara!" yelled the Doctor, in desperation. The vehicle sped up. The Doctor started to bang on the doors, and the Master's screen.

"There's no way out Doctor," stated the Master, "Not a situation you are familiar with."

The Doctor knew that the Master was right. There was no way out. He had been the one that could save everybody. Now, Clara was unable to rely on him. Maybe she could fight her way out? He could only hope. He couldn't actually _do_ anything, apart from sit in the truck, think of a plan and wait for the Master to decide where he was going to take him next.

The rhythm of four started again on the screen. "Listen to the drums, Doctor," the Master said, tapping away at will, "Listen to my world."

This was all the Doctor could do right now. The Master seemed a more shady and serious character than he used to be, but he was still as mad as ever. Perhaps even worse, as he now knew where his madness had originated from and he knew how to channel it. And the Doctor was stuck with him. For once in his life, he had no idea where he was going, and he had no idea what might happen. He was in a truck driving along ice with an extremely dangerous madman. And there was nothing he could do about it.


	5. A Long Way to Fall

Clara lay in the snow. The soft surface underneath her had shielded her from any scale of bruising, although her left arm ached from where the Cyberman had grabbed her. She looked out ahead, to see the truck that she had been in driving away into the distance. The Doctor had successfully been taken away from her. In all the time that she had been travelling with him, nobody had ever been able to do that. This Master must be extremely clever, and extremely threatening.

A Cyberman crouched down and took her aching arm. "You must stand," it demanded her.

"What if I don't?" she asked. She wasn't going down without a fight. Even though she was technically already down, in this case. "I reckon you need me for something. If that's true, you won't kill me."

The Cyberman picked her up. "You will come with us," it requested.

"No I won't."

"Yes you will." The Cyberman moved closer to Clara. Its blank face looked even more terrifying than before. It grabbed her mouth with its metal hand, and held it open. She tried to protest, but her speech range was limited. The other Cyberman pulled out a tiny metal worm-like object. It moved it towards Clara's mouth, and forced it in. The other Cyberman let go.

Clara could feel the object forcing its way into to the roof of her mouth. A rhythm of four started to move through her head. She looked at each Cyberman in turn.

"This way," stated one Cyberman.

Clara gave it a nod, turned around, and began to walk forwards, escorted by the two Cybermen.

After ten minutes, the trio returned to Ilunavik. They stood outside the exit of the Cyber Factory. The worm-like object detached itself from the roof of Clara's mouth, and she spat it out onto the snow. The beat disappeared from her head. She knew where she was, but she suddenly realised the implications of this. She had to hope that the Doctor was on his way, but it seemed less likely than ever before. She had to try and get out, just in case this time, he could not get to her.

"Get me out of here!" she screamed. A Cyberman dragged her inside the building, before forcing her into a spherical chamber, which slammed behind her. All this time, she thought about where the Doctor might be. Maybe he was on his way back? Could he have escaped the Master and be returning to save her? It seemed as though this hope was all that was left for her. Around her was a cylindrical wall, shiny and silver, and about as threatening as everything she had witnessed since arriving at this damned place. A Cyberman was positioned in front of her. It was empty, but that was worse than an inhabited one, Clara decided, as she could tell that it was intended for her. She looked above her head, to see a variety of contraptions and sophisticated equipment that you might find in an engineering lab; not somewhere designed for use with people. It was all moving around with clear intent, some of it in a downward direction. The Doctor liked to leave things to the last minute. Clara hoped that he was doing this again.

The hillside topography of Ilunavik's coastal setting provided excellent acoustics. Shout loud enough, and your voice would echo across the entire town. Helped by this, a scream yelled across the entire town. It didn't last for too long, but the source remained alive and aware. Clara could feel her brain exposed. She was still conscious; maybe the Doctor would be able to save her now?

And then she didn't care. It confused her as to why she would care about the Doctor possibly coming to save her. The odds of that happening that late in were so low it was an illogical thing to think about. And why would it matter if she wasn't saved? She would rather be a Cyberman any day. She lost all sensation of her body for a second, before quickly reclaiming her sight, sense of hearing, and movements. But she could see much more clearly, had a much higher range of hearing, and full control of just about everything in her metallic body. She looked down at her former body, which lay on the floor. She was better than that now. She wasn't a _she_ anymore. She was an _it_ – a perfectly designed entity, capable of doing so much more. Clara marched out of the door of the Cyber Factory. An extra component designated its system a separate function from other Cybermen. And one that had to be performed right away.

* * *

The truck stopped. The Doctor had been spending the entire half-hour journey listening to the Master's compulsive banging on the screen. In all the years he had known and faced the Master, he had never experienced madness like this before. The Master got out of the vehicle. He wondered across the snowy plane – not the dance that he might have performed in his previous form, but a much more subtle gait than that. The Doctor sat in his seat. He knew that he wasn't going to achieve anything by sitting there. He had to, once again, get out and face the madman across the ice from him. He got out, put his hands in his pockets, and walked up to where the Master stood, with a blank expression on his face. A light flurry of snow was leaving some white specs in the Master's thick, dark hair.

"Why did you bring me here?" asked the Doctor, "We're right in the middle of nowhere."

"Icy plain. Snowy landscape. Emptiness. And a gigantic drop off that cliff edge just 10 feet away from us. I enjoy it when we meet in remote, exposed places like this," replied the Master, "Makes our encounters feel fierce and treacherous."

"I've been in my fair share of treacherous confrontations too, you know."

"True. I saw what you did on Trenzalore, Doctor. Not like you to spend so long in one place. And I witnessed every moment of it from our home. Unlike you. You never quite got onto Gallifrey itself, did you?"

"You were on Gallifrey through that crack? How was it?"

"Magnificent. And mine."

"Yours?"

"I am the Lord President of Gallifrey, Doctor. Maybe you might want to bow to me at some point?"

The Doctor refused to bow. "How did you do that?"

"Gallifrey was left in a bit of a state after the Time War. With no sign of Rassilon, a takeover was easy. Perhaps too easy. Those Time Lords were easy to manipulate into letting me into power."

"Easy to manipulate? The Time Lords?"

"Word travels fast when everybody's telepathic. Word that Rassilon had tried to end time to bring Gallifrey back does tend to start an uprising when communicated properly."

"How did you persuade them to believe you? And why did _you_ replace Rassilon?"

"The people there _loved_ the way you saved them. I told of how I stood alongside you as we defeated Rassilon. _Together_. Do you still remember that glorious day? Remember when I took out Rassilon, sending the Time Lords back? And you approved!"

"Rassilon was a Lord President for the people! You would never match up to his standards!" The conversation was really hotting up, considering the cold breeze that chucked snow in the faces of both participants.

"Rassilon tried to end the universe!" The Master got right up close to the Doctor, and started to circle him. The Doctor stayed focused in front of him. The Master reappeared in view.

"I took my revenge on Gallifrey for what they did to me," the Master continued. He tapped four times on the Doctor's shoulder, "Soon, I shall have a seven billion-strong army capable of taking them out. Gallifrey shall fall once again. And as we keep on conquering, we keep on converting."

The Doctor calmed down in front of the Master. "If you like the Cybermen so much, why don't you convert? You could be Cyber Controller."

"I like the Cybermen as efficient weapons. I never wanted to be one."

The Doctor looked at the Master in a state of disapproval. "Taking people's lives so that you can build up your own army. That's very you. I pity you, Master. And it also makes me wonder – how did you stay in power for so long like this?"

"A few things. Returning to Gallifrey a hero helped. Plus, it's easy to stay in power if you pay the right people. They protect you. Costs them dearly, poor them, but I'm still in power."

"You've corrupted Gallifrey just so you can stay in power. That's not leadership. That's dictatorship."

"Dictatorship, good way of putting. I rule the world. Helped along by a bit of feminism."

"Feminism?"

"My body burnt out as soon as I entered the Time War. When I regenerated, I was a woman."

The Doctor laughed. The Master was the last person he expected to regenerate into a woman. And if he ever did, he knew that 'she' would use this to 'her' advantage as much as possible, especially as the High Council of the Time Lords was largely male-dominated.

"I have had this face for 200 years now Doctor. Since I had that accident where I fell from a high balcony in the Citadel. That changed me back. I had to break up with my boyfriend – I didn't want to keep dating a man. And neither did he."

"I couldn't imagine you as a woman," said the Doctor with a chuckle.

"Laugh all you like, Doctor, but I have an army of highly sophisticated technology. That's what everybody is. Our minds are just complex computers. They can do amazing things, now there are no ridiculous human distractions. Nothing that will…"

The Master was interrupted by the arrival of a second truck, which parked up alongside the first. Four Cybermen got out of the four doors.

"Ah, right on time," he said, "Those Cybermen just plugged themselves in and controlled every aspect of the entire vehicle. They never used to be able to do that."

The Doctor looked over his shoulder. He noticed that he and the Master had managed to get close to a cliff edge. Down below, a fast-flowing icy river charged 100 feet down. The four Cybermen surrounded him, with the Master standing next to them, forming an arc.

"Now, this really is my favourite bit," cheered the Master, "This is the moment when I bring you down. Literally." A sense of satisfaction came over him. He tapped the shoulder of the Cyberman next to him. "This fella used to be sixteen-year-old Marie Erinaq. Until she got converted. Her brother was one of those who rebelled against the Cybermen. So she killed him."

The Doctor couldn't believe what the Cyberman standing almost in front of him had been led to do. It wasn't _her_ fault this happened. It was _its_ doing. And she didn't become an 'it' under her own will. Not really.

The Cyberman standing in front of the Doctor raised its arm, gun loaded, to the Doctor. It found a string within the human part of its processor. It recited it.

"Run you clever boy," it beeped, "and remember."

The Doctor's hearts broke. Clara, the girl he had a responsibility to protect, was a Cyberman. He had failed her.

"Wait a second, Clara," commanded the Master, "Little word of advice, Doctor. Never take Artron energy from an unknown source."

Clara shot the Doctor in the chest. He fell backwards, off the cliff face, and down towards the river. He could feel an urge to regenerate. It seemed a shame, he was starting to like his new him. _Never take Artron energy from an unknown source_. The Master's final sentence rang through his ears like the rhythm of four rang through the Master's head. He was worried about what might happen why he regenerated. But he had to take the risk, but only when it was safe. He looked down. The river and its icy banks hurtled towards him. For most, this would be terrifying, but it was a relief for the Doctor right now. He closed his eyes and tried to hold back the Artron energy for as long as he could.


	6. The 450-year Wait

The Doctor missed the river and hit the ground, hard. The shock went through his entire, damaged body. The gushing of the river flowed through the Doctor's mind. He opened his eyes, to see the yellow-gold glow of the Artron energy around his hands. He looked around, and was confused by what he saw. The land around him was fertile, and a forest surrounded him. There was no cliff in sight. A portal closed up above him. The Doctor concluded that he must have fallen through it. There was no way back now. He was forced upwards, before the energy shot out of his body, as a result of his regeneration. It seemed a pity to be regenerating this soon. He was just getting used to being him, and he was changing again. After a while, the process was done, and the Doctor breathed in with his new lungs.

He looked into the river for a reflection, and he liked what he saw. He had ridiculous curly hair and bright blue eyes. He gave his vocal chords a trial run. His voice boomed through the trees, and he gave a cheeky smile over what had happened. The Master was going to take over the world. Clara had become a Cyberman. He wasn't sure whether the Artron energy was affecting this, but he suddenly had a new priority. He had to source himself a stupidly long scarf.

The fourth (or was he the thirteenth?) Doctor wondered into a local village. He could see quite clearly from the smell and the way everybody dressed and the local infrastructure and architecture that he was somewhere in the 16th Century. He wanted to explore further, but his processing regeneration got in the way of this. He collapsed.

He awoke in a basic bedroom on an uncomfortable, but typically Tudor bed. A man walked in to join him.

"Good afternoon," said the man.

"Hello," said the Doctor, "Where am I?"

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Will Johnson. My wife and I caught you fainting in our village. We decided to bring you here and help you to recover."

"That's very kind of you, Will Johnson," responded the Doctor, still a little tired, "I have three important questions I need to ask."

"Go ahead."

"What year is this?"

"My, you must be confused, sir. It is the year of our Lord 1564."

"1564. Can't think of anything of interest about this year. Sorry. Next question – which village is this?"

"Are you suffering a concussion? This is the village of Little Wingding."

"Something like that. That's a nice font. Always preferred the original Wingdings to its two successors though."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Never mind. Final question – anywhere I can get a decent scarf?"

"My, you must be completely lost. If you want textiles, Jane Smith around the corner is great! She will get you the scarf you want."

The Doctor got up immediately. "Thank you for your help to recovery, Will. I had better be off now."

"You're welcome… sorry, never got your name."

"The Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Will looked delighted. "_The _Doctor?"

"Yup. Just 'The Doctor'. That's me."

"King Doctor?"

"_King _Doctor?"

"You know, the legend about the Doctor, who married the Virgin Queen, before disappearing? Technically he is King, although he hasn't been around much. What's kept you?"

"Royal duty. You know how it is when you're King."

"Of course, of course. I must let you go, your Majesty." He bowed, as the Doctor left.

"Thank you again for your kindness," the Doctor responded on his way out. It had just occurred to him. He was the King of England! He could do pretty much whatever he wanted.

The Doctor began to live a long and fruitful life. He immediately divorced Queen Elizabeth I, who banished him from England, where he did not return until 1603 – the year of Elizabeth's death. He watched history take place – the English Civil War, American Independence and the French Revolution, to name a few events. It was unusual to see it all happen in the correct order, for once. No timey-wimey moving around between different points in time and space – he was fixed to that one timeline. He saw himself several times, from a distance, of course, so as not to cause havoc with the space-time continuum. It occurred to him how much he had interfered with some of these events, and how much he had saved humanity. There was so much that he had done for them. And he remembered the Cybermen and the Master taking over in the year 2014. It felt like a waste of all that he had done. That said, he continued to be the graceful, saving character that he always was – helping those in need of it, from fighting aliens and saving lives, to fixing children's toys and useful equipment. Because that was the man he was – somebody who helped save lives, no matter what the scale of his requirement was.

Eventually, in 1824, the National Gallery opened. The Doctor visited, to see two working-class men moving a covered painting to a secret-looking location, with a third middle-class man standing, watching them. He walked up to the middle-class man.

"Gallifrey Falls No More," he said to the man. The man looked astonished.

"How did you know its name?" he asked, "no-one's supposed to know."

"That painting was owned by Queen Elizabeth I. She kept it secret, as it was too dangerous for public consumption. Legend has it, that monsters locked themselves inside it, and would be ready to strike from there any day."

The man's astonishment continued. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm just an aging man who knows a lot about dangerous art," replied the Doctor. His dark hair was starting to turn grey, having had it for almost 300 years now.

The Doctor became the Curator of the Under-gallery, where the painting and other dangerous art would be placed over the years. He now had one job on the Earth, rather than the several he had already picked up – to protect humanity from the art-related horrors that could lie within. His knowledge of it was impeccable – beyond any idea that any human could think of. Only _he _knew that placing the Weeping Angel statues in front of each other would stop them from causing people to go missing. Only _he_ knew what to do with the Fez of Archutahn. Soon, it would just be a standard fez.

History passed the Doctor by yet again – Victoria's coronation, the Crimean War, World War I, the invention of the Peace Baby (later known as the Jelly Baby), World War II. Eventually, in 2013, he looked out to Trafalgar Square, to see the TARDIS – the first he had seen of it for over 400 years – and a strange, long-haired, large-chinned, bow tie-wearing man hanging from it. He had to make himself scarce, as he wasn't needed just yet. But soon he would be.

Later on, he met Clara again. "Hello, I'm the Curator of the Under-Gallery," he said, "Are you Clara Oswald?" he asked her, as though he didn't know.

"Yeh, that's me," she responded. She acted in a human manner – the same cheery way that she always had done. It brought a tear to the elderly Doctor's eye to know what would later happen to her.

He pulled out a packet of Jelly Babies. "Would you like a Jelly Baby?" he offered her.

"Ooh, yes please," responded Clara, taking one. The interaction with his old friend put a smile on the Doctor's face.

"Could you let the Doctor know I'm looking for him?" he requested.

"Sure," responded Clara. They talked for about five minutes, about his job as curator and her adventures through time and space. The chance to meet her again filled the Doctor with a warm feeling of joy, as well as overwhelming him with sorrow, knowing about her fate. After a while, she turned and left him, to find the Doctor. _Her_ Doctor, not this Doctor.

The elderly Doctor walked into the main hall. He saw the eleventh Doctor sitting in front of the painting. "I could retire, and become the curator of this place." he heard him say – lines which he could remember as fresh as the day he had said them.

* * *

The elderly Doctor walked towards him, with the aid of his stick. His white hair wasn't curly any more, but he felt as though he had aged better than the man in front of him was going to. "You know I really think you might," he boomed. The eleventh turned around.

The Master looked down where the Doctor had fallen. His newly-adopted wry smile came across his narrow, wide-eyed face. The other four Cybermen looked down with him. After a moment, the Master and two Cybermen got into one truck, with the other two Cybermen in the other.

On the return trip, the Cyberman sitting to the Master's left as he drove along began to encounter some software issues. It remembered what had happened during its upgrade. A strange sense of humanity ran over its brain. And then it remembered. _She_ was Clara Oswald. The Doctor's companion and close friend. The Doctor needed her now. The Earth needed her. She had to start somewhere. She turned around to where the other Cyberman was sitting. She shot it using her equipped gun. The Master looked at her and put his screen up.

"I knew this might happen," he said, "the upgrade technology used here wasn't designed for unwilling conversion. What _was_ prepared for, however, was an attack on Cybermen using Cyber technology." At this moment, the other Cyberman jolted upwards in its seat.

"Re-initialised," it said. Clara did not like where this was going, although at least she would be protected from an attack using Cyber technology. But the Master wasn't protected. She tried to shoot him. But the screen prevented her shot from reaching him. What _was_ this screen made of, she wondered. All she could do now was wait for a better opportunity to do something, and think of a plan.

* * *

It had been great moment for the Doctor. And he was lucky enough to be able to live through it for a second time. He wondered off, into the other side of the Under-Gallery, to see a cupboard that wasn't there before. He looked at it. Who had put that there? The door of the cupboard opened. Two Cybermen marched out of it, with one grabbing each arm. The Doctor dropped his stick, which a Cyberman picked up for him. A third Cyberman marched out, but it looked different. The Doctor recognised that this must be the Cyber Controller. He wondered who had been given that role.

"You will come with us," demanded the Controller. It had a deeper voice than most Cybermen, but still monotone.

The Doctor didn't feel as though he had a choice. The other two Cybermen took him into the cupboard. It was bigger on the inside, and the Doctor recognised it instantly, despite not having seen it for a very, very long time. The six-side console sat in the middle, Gallifreyan scribbled all over rings which ran around the top. Handrails prevented the fall from the matte-grey walkway to the lower floor of the main room. It was his TARDIS. He looked at the Cyber Controller, who knew how to fly it. It seemed like an unlikely thing to have a Cyberman knowing, even the Cyber Controller. Maybe it had the instructions uploaded before arrival.

The TARDIS groaned as it travelled. It was a very short trip, after which the Cyber Controller moved towards the door, and opened it, to walk out. The Doctor and the two Cybermen followed it.

The weather was as cold as the day the Doctor had his fall off the Greenlandic cliff. The TARDIS had returned to Ilunavik. Two trucks arrived, outside the Cyber Factory, and the Master and four Cybermen got out of them.

Clara could see the Doctor walking out of the TARDIS. Old and with his walking stick, it didn't matter to her. At least he wasn't a Cyberman, like she was. And then a change came over her. She became an 'it', concentrating solely on the Cyber cause. It didn't act out of line of the other Cybermen.

"I fixed the chameleon circuit," explained the Master, "I had nothing better to do."

"When could you have done that?" asked the Doctor, "you were in the truck the whole time I was gone."

"I haven't actually done it yet." The TARDIS dematerialised, taking the Cybermen that had brought him here with it. The blue box TARDIS sat the other side of the Cyber Factory, untouched, as yet.

The Doctor looked down at the snow. He knew that it was going to be hard to defeat the Master now. _Never take Artron energy from an unknown source_. Those words from all that time ago still echoed through his head. The Doctor bent down to pick up some snow, knowing that it might be his last opportunity. The cold, soft material lay in his aging hand. But something wasn't right about the snow. And then it occurred to him. The Master had practically defeated him purely because he _knew_ the Doctor and all his tricks incredibly well. But the Doctor knew the Master equally well, too. And he knew what he was planning. And he knew that the Master did not need to use preservative snow in this instance – Time Lord technology. A memory had had been previously wiped flashed back into his mind. He could remember flying over the town in his TARDIS. He couldn't remember which incarnation it was, or why he was doing it, but he could remember the Cybermen. The moment that this had happened became a fixed point in time and space, as he could now remember it. Something crucial had happened that day – and he couldn't change it now. His only hope left was to abide the Master, and let his plans go forward. But full of confidence in his past self.

A few moments after this realisation, a Cybership flew down, and landed beside the town. "Come with me," offered the Master. A couple of Cybermen took him, so the Doctor didn't really have a choice.

The inside of the Cybership was an entirely metal structure. The group, which included the Cybermen from the cliff edge, moved towards the top deck. Here, stood a long corridor, with a metal chair at the other end. The Master led the others to it.

"Take a seat," he offered. The Cybermen forced the Doctor onto the chair. "Now, you know what I was saying about regeneration energy?" he asked him, "My point should become clear now."

The Doctor looked at his hands. It seemed as though he was regenerating. But his cells weren't being replaced. They were disappearing! Slowly, the Doctor faded away, until a brain sat on top of some clothes on the seat. The Master, wearing gloves, picked up the brain in his hands. He gave a deep chuckle over what had just happened. He placed it in a jar, which he passed it to a Cyberman.

"Upgrade this to be Cyber Controller," he instructed. The Cyberman took the brain away.

The Doctor still had the power of thought. He remembered the moment he was flying above Ilunavik. And then it became clear to him. He remembered who he was, and what had happened in more detail. And he regretted thinking about it. But he couldn't do anything about the event now – he was a brain in a jar, about to be converted into a Cyberman. What happened was always going to happen, and the consequences were still going to take place.

Later on, the new Cyber Controller sat in its chair. It had full control of the entire ship – every doorway, every contraption, and every escape pod that was still attached. And the Doctor's brain was perfect for undergoing this role. Due to the extra care taken over the Doctor, the Clara-style malfunction wasn't going to happen. And his wealth of knowledge could lead the Cybermen to glory in their upcoming war with the Time Lords, which the Master was so keen on having take place. Soon, they would be paid back for what they did to him as a child.

Clara was not so sure, however. It felt as though it definitely wasn't an 'it'. She was a 'she', and she always will be. Maybe she could still do something to save the Earth.

She moved her arm to the Master, to shoot him. She shot. Another Cyberman whizzed in front, and took the shot, but was unaffected, due to advanced Cyber technology. But the Master noticed the assassination attempt.

"Faulty machinery," he observed, "What do you suggest we do with that one, Controller?"

"We recycle it," responded the controller, in its deep, monotone, electronic voice.

At this point, Clara realised why she wanted to stay a 'she'. As a Cyberman, she wasn't cared about. She was just another part of a bigger machine. At least human society allowed her to be valued, and the person she was. The Cyberman ideology disgusted her. Two Cybermen took her to a separate chamber, and threw her inside. It was small and cramped, with no means of escape.

The Cyber Controller began the process from its chair. The faulty Cyberman had its operating system removed, and the shell retained for use for a future Cyberman. "Rogue element deleted," reported the Controller.

The Master walked up close to the Controller. "No more upsets," he declared, "Now, the conversion shall continue, and my army will rise up to conquer Gallifrey itself." He had a clear vision of what he wanted – one that he wasn't going to let go of.


	7. The Last Survivors

**AN: I am tempted to write an additional story later on about the humans' struggle during the time in between the previous chapter and this one. It feels like there's a lot of scope for an untold story here.**

* * *

Calmstonve sat on the beach of the Kiribati atoll of Tabuaeran. It had been nearly a year since him and his girlfriend Kamine had fled their home in mainland Kiribati. He had met her three and a half years after the Cybermen started appearing, and he had promised to protect her from their attacks – a word he had still kept to to this day. She walked down across the white sand, and joined him, looking out to the blissfully calm and almost transparent waters. Tabuaeran was a safe place, as the Cybermen were never going to come looking here.

Kamine was in her mid-twenties, like her boyfriend, and she loved him very much. She was eight months pregnant with their child, which was a decision largely influenced by the fact that there were very few humans left in the world. An estimated 30 million people had escaped Cyber influence, but this number had seriously deteriorated to just 11,000 people connected to the worldwide sub wave network six months ago. They were _very_ lucky to be still alive. Kamine moved close into Calmstonve, who felt her bump. "Not long to go now," he whispered to her, "Then there will be a fourth island resident."

This was true, as the couple also shared the island with a third person, Safaila. She had grown very close to Kamine and Calmstonve during their time here, and it was no wonder, as she had no contact with anybody else since the Cybermen detected the network, forcing it to be shut down for the protection of the remaining 11,000. She was just a child, aged twelve when the Cybermen first appeared. Gradually, the nearly 2,000-strong population were encouraged by the Cybermen to disappear to mainland Kiribati's international Cyber Factory, and be 'upgraded'. Nine people on the island were wiser to it, and Safaila had spent her adolescence watching the other eight people being killed by the Cybermen. Battle-scarred from when she grew up, she was now living in an island paradise apparently forgotten by the Cybermen, with an extremely caring couple. She was _so_ glad that they had arrived – she would have been driven mental alone. And that was despite the fact that aged just 17, she was five months pregnant, with Calmstonve also being the expectant father. It was not an easy decision for any of the island residents, but they all knew that it had to happen if humanity was going to survive. She leant against a palm tree, looking out to sea, where Calmstonve and Kamine were in sight. She knew that she wasn't likely to ever know love like they did right now, which made her envy them at times. In general, though, she was happy for them, and she knew that it was people like them who would keep humanity alive.

Safaila felt her bump. It wasn't as big as Kamine's – yet. She didn't feel ready to be a mum. She just hadn't had the life experience that Kamine had. But she knew it would be necessary for the human race. She immersed herself in the tranquil nature of her environment. All her worries escaped her, as she listened to the splooshing of the tide, the rustle of the wind in the trees, and the hydraulic sound of marching metal boots. Marching? That's not normal? She looked over her shoulder. She could see a short line of five or six Cybermen pushing their way through the trees. She screamed. Calmstonve and Kamine turned around immediately, to see the Cyberman placing its terrifying metal hand on Safaila's shoulder. An electric pulse appeared across her body, before she fell forward, dropping dead on top of her unborn child. The baby was not going to survive.

Calmstonve and Kamine stared at each other, in shock over what had happened. Calmstonve took Kamine by the hand. "We have to get away from here," he told her.

There wasn't a boat in sight, but their car sat a few feet along the beach from them. They ran towards it. Calmstonve had taken it upon himself to have an athletic build, able to get away from danger like this. This was more than could be said for Kamine, who was pregnant and vulnerable. They made it to the car, and got inside. The Cybermen held off for a bit, surprisingly, and Calmstonve was about to drive off when a hologram appeared across the windscreen, completely obscuring the view. The Master appeared on the screen, sitting in a silver metallic office.

"Congratulations on your survival skills," he said to them, "You are the last two people left on Earth. You shall be rewarded for this." He paused, "You get to hear this message before we kill you. Goodbye!" The hologram vanished, and the Cybermen began to advance.

Calmstonve put his foot to the floor. They drove along a dusty trail, which lead into a small abandoned village. They were beginning to lose the Cybermen, but they moved quickly. They went into a house, the view of which overlooked Tabuearan's gorgeous lake that the entire island circled around.

"The defences are up," said Calmstonve, reassuringly to Kamine. "Just one important thing left." He knelt down in front of Kamine on one knee. "Will you marry me?" he asked.

Kamine felt a real sense of warmth, which blocked out the fear of the Cybermen. "Yes," she responded excitedly.

"We'd better be quick," Calmstonve said to his fiancé.

The couple said vows to each other. There were no rings, but this didn't matter right now.

"You may now kiss the bride," said Kamine to her new husband.

They kissed each other like there was no tomorrow. Because it seemed as though there was no tomorrow. At this moment, a Cyberman entered and put its hand on Kamine's shoulder, killing her off. She hadn't noticed until she was dead, falling backwards onto the floor. Calmstonve watched his wife and unborn child fall back, without fear, because he knew what was about to happen. He felt an electric pulse through his shoulder, and he fell forwards on top of his family. Humanity ceased to exist, but it had gone out on a high.

* * *

The City of Ilunavik was a stark contrast to the peaceful setting of Tabuaeran. It was the capital of Cyber Earth, and characterless metal buildings spread across the icy landscape. Some of these were gigantic structures – a monstrosity compared with the small, colourful buildings that had once populated a much smaller area. It was deep winter, and as a result, the skies were dark, with the entire city being lit artificially. The Aurora Borealis shone overhead – once its beauty had been appreciated by humans, but it was now meaningless to the Cybermen.

The Master walked out among the cold, bland landscape. The icy wind blew through his hare, but this did not faze him one bit. He was a man on a mission, and he could feel himself being in touching distance of this mission. He spoke to himself, as the rhythm of four thundered through his mind, louder than the sound of the wind which whistled across the entire city. "Now," he said, "I can get my revenge on the Time Lord scum for what they did to me!" He looked out among what he had created, and it pleased him more than any Cyberman could ever be pleased.

* * *

**AN: I could have ended it here. But I won't. To be continued!**


	8. Exile

Rassilon trod among the ruins of Arcadia. Despite all of the time that had passed since the last day of the Time War, it wasn't looking any better than it did on that dark day when it fell. People still lived here, but there was extreme poverty existing across the city. Not a single building was fully intact, with some just reduced to rubble, lay across the streets, which piled up with debris and famine and disease.

He wanted to help the city get back on its feet, but he knew that he couldn't have stayed. There was important business that needed to be adhered to, which would determine the survival of Gallifrey itself, as well as many, many other planets in the sky. That problem was the Master. She had forced her way in as Lady President, after making claims about her co-operation with the heroic man who had appeared to save Gallifrey in the blue box TARDIS, and how Rassilon had attempted to end time, conveniently leaving out the part where he had tried to do it for his people, after seeing them almost destroyed by the war, and been sent mad by it. This gave her the upper hand, which allowed the change to happen. The vast majority of Gallifreyans, including nearly all women were blinkered by the fact that a vastly male-run parliament had led Gallifrey into the most terrible and destructive war in the history of the Universe, meaning that she was looking very good as a candidate in their eyes, despite the fact the she had been a man for all of her other lives, and had endured a rare sex-change regeneration. Deceivingly as the Master had always been, she came across as a great example for Time Lord women. And when she described the disgusting act that Rassilon had attempted during the Time War her way, Rassilon was ousted and exiled from the Citadel, and the Master became Lady President of Gallifrey. Her staying there relied on her acting as the polar opposite of the feminist that she had appeared as, using her highly attractive appearance to keep herself in power, above her deliberate choice of more weak-minded male Time Lords that made up her council. Few were able to see this, but those who did were taken in by it. Rassilon had to go into hiding for two years, until he met the man who was walking to his right hand side.

Acknal had often assumed a role as a public speaker and speech writer for many counsellors, back in his days at the Citadel. He was showing signs of age, not like when he had first found Rassilon hiding away in Arcadia's much fresher ruins, as a newly-regenerated, young and fit man. His distinctive ginger hair was turning a much paler shade, and had really begun to thin on top. He envied Rassilon's lack of aging – next time he could be young again, he would have to regenerate, and become a whole new man. Unlike Rassilon, who would never have to die of old age.

The pair had become incredibly close friends, as well as even closer working partners. They spent hundreds of years walking across the whole of Gallifrey, meeting those who were not among the elite few receiving help from the Master, and regaining Rassilon's credibility among the people of the world. They never made the Citadel, but the message still got through – Rassilon is returning. And he's going to end this poverty, and this famine, and this horrendous mess that the Master has got the planet into.

And it all came down to this one day in Gallifrey's long, long history. Rassilon and Acknal stepped towards a particular tower – a bit of a wreck, but compared with the majority of Arcadia's buildings, in extremely good condition. A short, blonde woman named Irian stood outside the building. She looked young, but really wasn't – she was 5600 years old, and out of regenerations. Her twelfth incarnation had been a dark and dangerous character, having spent much of it close to the Master, and working as her chief genetic scientist. Some disturbing entities had formed as a result of her work, but her biggest misdemeanour had nothing to do with any of these, and haunted her to this day, 200 years and a regeneration after the event. She carried on with her work as a genetic scientist during her thirteenth incarnation, but she was content that working for Rassilon would allow herself to set right the wrongs of her twelfth.

"What is the status of the Resurrection Chamber?" Rassilon asked Irian. He liked his dramatic-sounding names.

"Final tests are operating successfully. Looking good to go. How are the Cybermen?"

"No invasion as yet. Computer simulations suggest that they should be fairly imminent, but thankfully we're done."

"I was beginning to think we weren't going to make it."

"Gallifrey never falls," Rassilon declared, "We survived the Time War, and we'll survive this."

"This way," responded Irian. She led the two men inside the building.

The inside was the liveliest scientific place in the entire city. The main room was covered in a variety of experiments, all of which had been designed and performed by Irian over the past 200 years. But none of these interested Rassilon. At the other end of the room from the door, his main focus sat, unimpressively and unnoteworthy – the Resurrection Chamber. The appearance was bleak – a 5m by 5m glass chamber, with what was effectively a cannon sitting inside it. A large tube coming in from above, coupled with some switches on a control panel next to the room redeemed it a little, but it was still an incredibly modest structure. But that was ok with Rassilon – having known Irian for 200 years now, he knew what she was capable of, and that her machine was not to be underestimated.

"Does it do everything we need it to?" Rassilon enquired.

"It certainly does," replied Irian, "and it all should work perfectly. Can't tell for sure until we apply it to a real human, but I have high hopes for this machine."

Acknal had become a little lost here. He wasn't a scientist, and he wasn't entirely sure how the laws of time worked. "Why do we need this?" he asked.

Rassilon saw this question as being a little ignorant for a Time Lord. Acknal wasn't stupid, but his scientific understanding was still very limited. Rassilon appreciated his talents as a speechwriter, but he thought that this should be common knowledge. "For the love of Omega, use the gifts you were born with, Acknal!"

"I get it; we need a human to switch off the device so as not to get noticed telepathically by the Master," Acknal replied a little hastily, "But why can't we go back and get a live human?"

"We need a local from Ilunavik, who has experienced the Cybermen and won't be shocked by them. Someone who knows a bit about them, and has learnt to face them. But won't be recognised as a Time Lord when they enter the factory."

"So why not get a live local? Why try to revive a dead one?"

"Acknal, are you familiar with chaos theory?" Irian asked.

"That's the one involving alternative timelines, isn't it?"

"The reason why we could only look nine days into the Cybermen's time on Earth is because once history has been seen, it becomes fixed and cannot be changed by those in the know. This means that we can only change what took place after those nine days. Chaos theory dictates that if the timelines are altered after that point, even slightly, the whole process of the Cybermen's conversion would have been played out differently, meaning that they could be done by now."

"Our models suggest that there was a 37% chance that the Cybermen would be here by now," interrupted Rassilon, "We can't afford to risk them being here. Because if we know that they are here, we can't stop them, and instead we'd have to fight them directly. Which is messier and could bring the whole of Gallifrey to its knees."

"Ok, I get it," said Acknal, finally, "So who is going to be revived?"

"I think we have just the candidate," said Rassilon, with a satisfied smile.

* * *

Laila looked at the Cyberman. It towered over her, fearsomely, with a blank expression that she was unable to read. This was perhaps more scary than a sinister expression. Its voice was monotone to match its face, again, scarier than speaking with an evil laugh between every other word.

The man she had been talking to found it less daunting. "She's trying to stop me from entering the building," he complained to the Cyberman.

"Rogue element," it announced, looking at Laila. It put a terrifying silver metallic hand on her shoulder. Laila's heart rate increased beyond anything she had ever known. "Must be deleted. Delete!" continued the beast. It did not move its mouth to speak, but instead flashed a blue light where its mouth should be.

An electric pulse travelled through the glove and into Laila's shoulder. She felt an immense pain, before feeling nothing from the shock. Suddenly, it seemed that all of her plans were not going to happen. She started to drift out of consciousness, before dropping to the ground, dead. The Cyberman stared at her body, briefly, before turning to face the man who had witnessed this.

"The female chose to defy the Cybermen. She was deleted," it said to him, "You may choose otherwise, and be upgraded. You could become one of us."

Inuk had watched the tragic scene from a distance. He ran away, as scared as any child would be in this situation, before being able to witness the snow from the snowstorm that was starting to brew falling on Laila's corpse. But this was no ordinary snow. This snow had a secret.

High above in the clouds, Irian stood in the open doorway of her TARDIS, which flew overhead. She held the nose of a large, flexible pipe, which attached to a machine inside the console room. The machine added a Time Lord-designed preservative ingredient to the snow, before it was formed, which would have the capability to preserve a freshly-dead body in a coma-like state. As the snow fell on Laila, her circulatory system became unable to stop, despite the fact that she was dead.

That evening, Inuk followed his family towards the Cyber Factory, to see the mound where Laila's body lay. He separated from them, before taking the long route outside the town away from the factory. After he had left, the Cyber Factory gained an external doorway, which Irian walked out of once it had materialised. The Time Lords would only be detected if they tried to enter the factory itself, meaning that Irian was safe. She dug out the body, and put it in her arms, before bringing it back to her TARDIS and covering it in more preservatives, just to be safe. The body reminded her of some of the terrible things that she had done in her last life. Maybe this time, she could save lives rather than take them.

Irian brought the body back to her lab in Arcadia, and placed it inside the cannon in the Resurrection chamber. She pushed a few button on the control panel, causing the chamber to be filled with the golden glow of Artron energy, which entered via the tube at the top, connected to a tank filled with Artron crystals. She pulled a lever, which opened up a portal, linking directly to the Time Vortex itself. On the push of a button, Laila was fired into the vortex, which closed up behind her.

"The process itself should only take a few seconds," Irian explained.

"So she'll be back?" asked Acknal.

"This time tomorrow. She's been fired into the Time Vortex, so she'll go slightly forward in time while the process is happening." Irian pushed a button which removed the Artron energy. "We need to put crash mats down," she instructed.

"Let's just hope there aren't any Cybermen arriving before then," said Rassilon.

* * *

The next day was one of the longest any of the trio in the lab had experienced. If the Cybermen just happened to begin their attack during that time, it would all have been for nothing. However, they still didn't come, before the portal reopened itself, and Laila came crashing back inside. She stood up, and looked through the glass, to see three people standing on the other side of it, and a gigantic and sophisticated, but slightly dilapidated laboratory behind them. She was in agony, as the pulse from the Cyberman which she thought had killed her travelled the whole way across her body. She could feel herself dying. But this wasn't a normal death. She couldn't work out what was happening.

"Take it easy," assured Rassilon, "You're going through a process called regeneration. It will save your life."

Laila was slightly comforted by the chance to live, but it still didn't reassure her given the pain she was in. She looked at her hands. They were glowing yellow-gold with what looked like tiny particles, full of energy. A new pain came through her, which burst across her violently, as more of these particles covered her vision. After a few moments, it stopped. She gasped a little. She could see her fringe in the top of her vision, which was odd. She didn't have a fringe! Especially not a brown fringe. A mirror stood in front of her, which she looked in, expecting to see her slim, blonde figure that she knew she had. But she didn't. The reflection showed her to be slightly chubbier, with brown hair, a mildly tanned skin tone and a slightly darker shade of blue in her eyes.

"What's happened to me?" she asked, slightly in shock. Her voice was a higher pitch than she was used to.

"Regeneration," Rassilon explained, "Us Time Lords use it as a way of cheating death. When we should die, we just change our entire DNA, as a way around it. The chamber you are standing in has allowed you to possess this power as a human."

"We didn't think this was possible," Irian explained, as though Laila had the faintest clue about Time Lord technology, "Until a woman called Madame Kovarian tried something similar on the unborn child Melody Pond. And she was able to regenerate. Our device makes this happen with the not-quite-dead rather than the unborn, but the theory is the same."

"Erm, right," Laila responded, without any understanding of what Irian was talking about. "So why would you do this to me?"

"Because Gallifrey needs your help," Acknal replied, "And so do many other planets in fact. Including your own."

"But why me?" asked Laila. The regeneration was taking its toll on her, causing her to collapse onto the soft floor of the chamber.

"Sleep, girl," said Rassilon, as though she could hear him, "You will need to gather as much strength for the advancement." He was excited about what was to come. Gallifrey and its people would be saved, and nothing delighted him more than this prospect.


	9. Mothers' Day

Laila stood outside the doorway of the lab. She looked up at what remained of Arcadia's skyline, and amazed at what this place must have once been, as well as how ferociously it must have fallen. She didn't quite feel right about where she was, partly because she was standing in a gigantic ruined city on an alien world, but mostly due to the fact that she had a completely different body to what she had last time she was on Earth. She was starting to adapt to the change, with a little sickness, which was apparently natural within a few hours of regeneration. She was beginning to recover from the process itself, even if it did seem weird seeing her brown fringe or tanned hands.

Irian walked up to where Laila was standing. "It's an overwhelming thing, isn't it?" she said.

"It's a little strange being different," Laila replied, "but I'm starting to get used to it."

"I've regenerated twelve times now, so it's second nature to me now. I won't regenerate any more though. I've reached the limit – next time, I die." A glum moment filled the area. "But I was talking about the city, not the regeneration."

"Oh. What happened to this place? How did it become such a ruin?"

"There was a war. Hundreds of years ago now. Against a race called the Daleks. It was called the Last Great Time War – the largest and most destructive war in the history of the universe."

Laila could remember the Daleks. "I remember them," she said, "I didn't meet one, they weren't interested in our little town, but they were all over the cities. The sky was filled with planets. I'd never been so frightened for the future of Earth in all my life."

"They are a deadly race. Nobody could ever have destroyed a city like this, but they did it. And the Master – the man who brought the Cybermen to your world – he allowed this to continue. The city still hasn't repaired itself."

"How come?"

"He was sent mad by the Time Lords so they could try and escape the Time War. It didn't work. But he came here instead, regenerated into a woman, and corrupted Gallifrey."

"So does that mean I could become a man?" Laila asked. She was fascinated by this prospect.

"Unlikely, but possible. I was never a man."

"Oh, right. And now the Master's a man again? How did that happen?"

"She fell from her balcony. And regenerating into a man made him all the more sinister. She might have been incredibly harsh before, but at least she didn't scheme to end Gallifrey, like he is now. The change just made her worse."

At this moment, the pair was interrupted by the arrival of Rassilon.

"How are you feeling, Laila?" he asked.

"A little weird, but much better thanks," replied Laila.

"Good, can we get to Ilunavik now?"

"Sure, we ought to do that as soon as we can," answered Irian.

"Why the rush?" asked Laila, "Don't you guys have time travel?"

"We do," replied Rassilon, "But the Cybermen could come here at any minute, and we need to get going as soon as we can before it's too late."

"But they've only just started?"

"You are four and a half years in your future, Laila."

"And how's the Earth now?" Laila braced herself for bad news.

"We don't know," said Rassilon, "But according to our models, I'm afraid the majority of humans are now Cybermen, and most if not all of those remaining have been killed by them."

Laila grew impatient. She didn't want speculation on her planet. She wanted facts. "How can you not know?" she asked, with a hint of anger in her voice.

"We want to change the past," replied Rassilon, calmly, "And to do that, we can't be influenced by what happened after the point where we want to change. All we know about is what happened up until when you died."

"So we can't know anything? My race could be dead, and I can't know about it?"

"Knowledge is power. But when you are changing history, ignorance of what will happen after that point is power, not knowledge."

"But you have to know what is coming after that point to be able to know what to do, surely?"

Rassilon was impressed by Laila's wisdom. "Good speculation is useful," he told her, "But knowing what will happen will mean you can't change it. So you have to be able to _predict_, but not _know_."

Laila could finally take this answer. "Right," she said, "Let's go!"

* * *

Irian led Laila to a tall cylindrical object inside the lab. Laila walked inside, and was amazed by what she saw. She stepped back out, and had a good look around the object that she had just walked into. She walked back in again. A square console sat in the middle of a large, square room. It had a plain blue floorspace, and white walls surrounding it. It was bigger on the inside!

"Welcome to my TARDIS," announced Irian, "It's only a Type 22, I'm afraid; the latest model is a Type 63, but TARDISes are hard to come by in a ruined city."

"This is crazy," said Laila, gobsmacked by what she had just walked into. Irian pulled some levers on the console, and a bell-like object moved up and down in the middle. It made a small hum, but felt like it was peacefully gliding.

* * *

Rassilon and Acknal waved off the dematerialising TARDIS. Rassilon turned to Acknal.

"Do you know who we need now?" Rassilon asked.

"Who?"

"A man who knows the Master the best out of everyone."

"That would be the Doctor. But didn't he get defeated by the Master because the Master knew him too well? What's to stop that from happening again if we used a past version of him?"

"We need someone who knows the Master, but the Master doesn't know equally well."

"So we need the Doctor, but not the Doctor."

Rassilon walked into a separate room. He pushed a couple of buttons on a control panel and pulled a lever, causing the entire room to shine into a white light. "A gateway to the Time War," he explained to Acknal.

From the white light came a wheezing and groaning sound, familiar to both Time Lords from the last day of the Time War. That noise, bringing hope to all those people across the Universe. The Doctor was coming.

That famous blue box materialised in view. The door opened, and a man stepped out. He wore a brown coat and a scarf, and had a goatee around his mouth.

"Are you the Doctor," asked Acknal.

"No, not anymore," the man replied. He had a rough, husky voice, but impressive like Acknal had never heard before. And that was after spending hundreds of years with Rassilon.

"Acknal, meet the man who is the Doctor, and not the Doctor," introduced Rassilon, "He will know what the Master will do, but the Master cannot predict his behaviour."

"You took me from my own timeline to bring me here, Rassilon," said the Doctor, "I guess it's for something important."

"Come with me," Rassilon replied. He led the way out onto the street, and the Doctor and Acknal followed.

The Doctor looked around at the ruins of Arcadia. He had seen the city in its war-torn state during the Time War, but it was nothing like this. Rassilon watched the Doctor and his shocked expression slightly uncomfortably. If the Doctor would not forget what had happened after he left, it would have huge implications on what he thought of the Time War, potentially changing hundreds of years of his life.

"I knew the war was destructive," stated the Doctor, "But I never saw this happening." He took another look at the wrecked skyline, and the shattered dome that once encased the city, before turning and returning to the lab. "Let's get to it," he said.

Acknal looked shocked. Did the Doctor not want to take pity on those living on Arcadia's streets, or the destroyed city itself? This didn't fit the legend that he had once recognised.

The Doctor stood inside the lab. "Right," he began, "What do we need to do? I heard you mentioned the Master at some point. How's he getting along?"

"He's a bit different to what I was expecting," Acknal whispered to Rassilon.

"I know," replied Rassilon, "This Doctor is different. And that's why I chose him." He smiled, knowing that the Doctor was about to save Gallifrey, before he had already done it.

* * *

For the first time since she encountered the Cyberman that had originally caused her to regenerate, Laila was genuinely starting to enjoy her life again. She had been completely freaked out when her entire body had changed to a different one, after which she found herself in the ruins of an alien city, before being taken through time in a spaceship that was bigger on the inside. And she thought that the Cybermen were a big deal. She had grown very close to Irian, who was taking her to save her home in her TARDIS. They were headed to Ilunavik, and on the trip they discussed details of their lives on their different planets, and their different cultures and histories. But Irian steered well clear of the topic of her twelfth incarnation, choosing to focus more on her thirteenth. She was terrified of the prospect of Laila finding out what she had done.

The TARDIS materialised as a small wooden shelter, a five-minute walk away from the town of Ilunavik, on the side closest to the Cyber Factory.

"So my home is just outside those doors?" Laila asked.

"Yep," replied Irian, "5600 years of time and space, and it never gets old."

Laila gave Irian a small hug. "You brought me this new life," she said, "You're like another mother to me."

This filled Irian with a feeling of warmth. She had not been a mother for over 2000 years, when her only son tragically fell into deep space during his fifth incarnation, causing him to regenerate eight times and then die of oxygen starvation, within a space of only half an hour. Her dream of using her talents bringing new life, rather than taking it away, was starting to get very real.

"Speaking of mothers," Laila continued, "I'm going to go and visit my real one. I'll meet you back here, is that ok?" She and Irian cheerily waved each other off, as Laila walked out of the door.

Irian sat on a chair next to her console for a few minutes, before a shudder came over her. She realised what she had just let Laila do. She ran out of the door, hoping she could catch her before it was too late.

Laila approached her mother's house. After all she had been through, including that near-death experience, she was relieved to be able to go back to her own world. She opened the front door, and entered, to see her mum sitting on a chair in the living room. She walked up to her.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" her mother asked.

"It's me, mum, what are you talking about?" responded Laila.

Laila's mum stood up. "Who the hell are you? I've never seen you before."

Laila saw a picture of herself on the wall, before seeing herself in a next to it. And then she realised. She had changed during her regeneration. Her own mother wasn't going to be able to recognise her.

"It's Laila, your daughter," Laila tried to tell her, desperately, "I know I look different, and it's a strange situation, but I promise you, it's me! I can explain."

"My daughter went missing. Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"You have to believe me!" The words could barely leave her mouth for the tears.

"Get out!" her mother yelled, pushing her away, "or I'll call the police!"

Laila ran out of the door. Irian had found the house she had gone into, and met her outside. They threw their arms around each other.

"I'm sorry," Irian said comfortingly, "I shouldn't have let this happen."

"My own mother doesn't recognise me," Laila sobbed. She could hardly speak.

And then Irian realised. She had made Laila who she was, and was responsible for the existence of her second incarnation. She was her mother now. Whilst Laila had grown up, it seemed natural to her to want to do something about her situation. She had no life left on Earth, as she was dead to everybody.

"When we are done," Irian offered, "I could show you the stars and all of time and space in my TARDIS. A bit of mother-daughter bonding. How about that?"

Laila was hugging Irian for a completely different reason now. "Thank you," she just about managed. She began to walk towards the Cyber Factory, taking her new mother with her.

The duo walked towards Laila's own home. Upon arrival, Laila showed Irian what she had worked out from her observations of the Cybermen. She found a map of the Cyber Factory that she had drawn up a few days ago, and pointed to a part which she had circled.

"This area here is heavily guarded," she explained, "Meaning that something important must be here. This could well be the transmitter intended to prevent people from fearing the Cybermen."

"Good spot," replied Irian, "The Master will be keen to keep the Doctor out, so will have put a telepathic field around that chamber. This will stop all Time Lords, as we are telepathically connected over short distances. But you aren't a Time Lord, so you should be fine. Question is – how do you get in?"

"It's heavily guarded on the outside, but on the inside, there is very little stopping anybody. Because they know that everyone who walks inside the factory will leave as a Cyberman."

"Be careful."

"I shall." Laila braced herself for possibly the most dangerous task she would ever have to do in all her lives.

* * *

The inside of the Cyber Factory was a soulless and metallic surrounding. Two cylindrical chambers stood, floor to ceiling, with threatening steel doors which Laila had to walk towards, in order to keep within the expectations of the lone Cyberman that was watching her. Before entering the right-hand chamber, Laila approached the Cyberman, which was standing to her right.

"So, if I walk in there," she said, pointing at the chamber, "I become like you?"

"That is correct," the Cyberman replied.

"Great," said Laila, placing an electromagnetic device on the Cyberman. A pulse raced through it, detaching its left arm, although the Cyberman could find a way around being killed by it, by using the Cyber Network.

"Upgrading," declared the Cyberman. Whilst it was doing this, Laila ran for a door a few metres along the wall, holding the arm in her hand. She used it to open the door, which was tuned to work only for a Cyberman's hand. Inside was a small cupboard-like room, the walls of which were covered in an assortment of switches, buttons and levers. Laila had literally no way of telling which one was to turn off the transmitter. For all she knew, the others could all have been designed to kill her. But this didn't matter. She pulled a small explosive from her pocket, placed it on the ground, and left the chamber.

Back in the main room of the Cyber Factory, the one-armed Cyberman had survived the attack, sobeit with a missing arm. "Rogue element detected," it said, "Delete!"

Then a crash came from behind Laila. The Cybermen guarding the chamber from the outside had entered into it. Laila pulled a trigger that she had kept in the other pocket, and the chamber blew up behind her, taking out a few Cybermen with it. Laila felt a little guilty about this, having killed some former citizens of her hometown, but she reassured herself that the Cybermen had done that when they got converted.

A hole stood where the door used to be. Laila turned and ran through it, but was stopped in her tracks by the arrival of two Cybermen in front of her. She looked behind, to see the one-armed Cyberman behind her. Two more Cybermen arrived, one either side of her. Laila was surrounded by Cybermen. She looked beyond them, to see the people that had suddenly realised what was happening. People were running, horrified at what was happening, and getting shot down by the 250 Cybermen that now population their home town. Ilunavik was under attack. But, for now, Laila had no way out. This life had been disappointingly short; maybe her third incarnation would last for longer. She closed her eyes, and waited in expectation of what was about to happen to her.


	10. The Doctor's Darker Days

Laila felt an unusual vibration around her. Was it happening? Was she regenerating again? This was definitely a different sensation than she had remembered last time. Much more pleasant. She dared to take a peek. The Cybermen were beginning to fade away from view, but a surprise came in their place. The TARDIS was appearing around her, with Irian standing by the console.

"Thought you could do with a hand," Irian said, smiling. She pulled a lever on the console, and the TARDIS moved upwards, until it was gliding over Ilunavik. Irian and Laila stood by the doorway, to look out over the town and local landscape. It was not a pretty sight. The Cybermen were creating havoc amongst the locals, who were all running from them, petrified for their lives. Some tried shooting, but that had no effect whatsoever. Laila realised that she had just done this. Had she not blown up the control room, life down there would be continuing as normal. She felt an air of guilt through her.

And then came the magical box that Irian had been waiting for. It was extremely dusty; covered in wear and tear, but it flew majestically into view anyway. A man stood in the doorway. The Doctor had come to finally defeat the Cybermen like he always could, and, knowing him, cease the attack on Ilunavik as a main priority.

"Doctor!" yelled Irian from her TARDIS. The Doctor saluted the ladies in their doorway from his, before swooping down to become a small rectangle in the glorious hilly background that surrounded Ilunavik.

But not all was as it seemed. This Doctor was different. A cylindrical object began to fall from his TARDIS. Irian looked on as it happened, horrified.

"I specifically said no nukes!" she screamed.

Laila looked at her, aghast. What did she just say? She looked down at the object, petrified of what was coming next for her hometown.

It hit the ground, and immediately exploded. The blast spread ruthlessly across the entire town, mushrooming out. It was a very small bomb given its purpose, meaning not a particularly large explosion, but big enough to destroy the town, and the Cybermen with it. Irian and Laila held each other in their arms. Irian knew that this Doctor was purposefully made to have no remorse. But she couldn't believe that Gallifrey's recovery relied on an act like this. She looked down at the town, and saw an unlikely glimmer within the blast. She realised what that meant. She couldn't be sure, but maybe the people of Ilunavik might not actually be dead? She knew that Rassilon wouldn't be responsible for the change. It was an unlikely saviour. Maybe it was Laila? She couldn't tell her for this reason. If she knew Ilunavik might be safe, she might not save it, and therefore the event could cancel.

"I'm done with Gallifrey," she said, with a sense of determination, "I cannot believe they could do something like this." The heat from the explosion could be felt from the TARDIS. The Doctor had flown away, and was nowhere to be seen. Irian closed the doors, and then stepped up to the console, and set off to leave the area. The TARDIS dematerialised, in an array of stunned and shocked silence.

* * *

Rassilon, Acknal and Irian watched a screen from Irian's lab via a secret hidden camera, which showed some incredibly important footage for their cause. Their Time Lord instincts kicked in. They became able to see everything that was, is and could be. And they unanimously agreed that what is was better than what was and what could have been. The Earth had recently been invaded by the Master and the Cybermen, but they knew that they were going to work together and fix it, somehow. They needed clues on how so that they could recreate this, and allow it to happen.

Above the bright orange sky, a Cybership soared, circling the planet at an appropriately high speed, considering that the inhabiting Cybermen wanted to stay there. They were the last of the Cybermen, except for those newly created on the Earth, and were getting desperate. But they were looking like salvation may finally have come to their kind, after all these years. The ship had ridden its way through a large space-time crack that had appeared in space, and it looked like Gallifrey may finally have an answer for them.

A male Time Lord strolled across the ship's parliamentary deck. He was a shady character, with dark curly hair, and a long dark coat – not the royal red that you might expect a Gallifreyan to wear. He was a head shorter than the Cybermen standing beside him as he walked, his footsteps chinking on the metal floor, which matched the metal walls and metal ceiling, but his height did not make him seem in any less control of where he was. He approached the Cyber Controller, who was sat connected to his steel throne.

"Your plan has failed the Cybermen," said the Cyber Controller to the Master. It turned to a Cyberman standing to his right. "Delete the Time Lord," it instructed it. The Cyberman advanced towards the Master.

"I wouldn't be so hasty," exclaimed the Master, shadily as ever, in a controlled attempt not to let the Cybermen kill him. He looked at his wristwatch. "In precisely four minutes and 23 seconds, a powerful bomb will go off somewhere on this ship, blowing it up."

"Not true," insisted the Controller, "You would go down with it."

"Controller, how many Cyber Pods are there on this deck?"

"Sixty-four," replied the Controller.

"Are you sure about that?"

The Cyber Controller scanned the room. "Sixty-five."

The Time Lord walked up to a pod. "This isn't a real pod," he said, "It's my TARDIS."

He opened the door of the pod, to find a blue double door behind it, reading _Police Public Call Box_. The Master quivered in fear of the new arrival. But he knew how to get the better of this man. The doors opened, to reveal the aged and bearded War Doctor.

"Surprise," said the Doctor.

The Master laughed. "You think you could leave me here to die," he said, "but I know you too well. You could never let me die!" His voice raised into a yell, before standing close to the Doctor. "You're going to take me with you, aren't you?"

"You really think I would do something like that?" responded the Doctor, coldly. The Master examined his face. He was serious.

"I know you almost as well as you know yourself, Doctor," he said, persuasively, "You have a conscience. That's what keeps you saving everybody. That's why I keep winning!" he snapped.

"I certainly used to," the Doctor replied, his voice as brisk as ever. "But I have come a very long way to get here. All the way out of the Time War, in fact."

And then the Master recognised the Doctor's face and realised who he was dealing with. He was the very dangerous man who threatened to destroy Gallifrey to end the Time War. Not the saviour Doctor that he had known to for hundreds of years.

"But you're still the Doctor," the Master replied, desperately, "It's a promise you made, remember? It's who you are!"

"In this life, I am not worthy of that title. Goodbye, Master." He closed the door and dematerialised, taking the Master's TARDIS with him.

The Master watched the dematerialising TARDIS, eyes wide open with fear. He looked at the Cybermen trying to find a way of diffusing the bomb, before looking at his watch. He banged against the metal wall of the ship, frantically trying to find a way out.

The TARDIS flew away from an exploding ship, before returning to Gallifrey, where he greeted an unexpectant trio in Arcadia.

"What are you doing here?" Rassilon asked.

"You brought me here to do a job," replied the Doctor, "I believe I have completed the task you wanted."

"Oh yes. I will do in the future," Rassilon suddenly remembered.

"I have the technology to wipe your memory and send you back to the Time War, Doctor," Irian replied. "Step this way."

Irian led the Doctor down a corridor leading away from the room, while Rassilon and Acknal began to discuss what had just happened, and what they knew was going to happen. If the future was going to take place, they would have to somehow recreate it, for it to be possible.

* * *

Four and a half years later, Irian's TARDIS remained in a gloomy silence after what she and Laila had witnessed. Laila sat in a corner, thinking about what she had just lost, as new people from her town popped into her head relentlessly. Meanwhile, Irian piloted her ship, concerned about Laila, but at the same time knowing that she had to allow them both to mourn the town's demise and then move on.

A juddering movement jerked across the entire console room. Irian looked at the monitor that sat atop the console. "Someone's attached their TARDIS to ours," she said, "We're being hijacked!" She ran to the door, followed by Laila. She opened it, to see another TARDIS alongside, stationary, with the door open, and a man that she had hoped she would never see again looking back at her.

"Hello, Irian," said the Master, "So glad to see you again. Congratulations on destroying the Cyber Factory down on Earth. And creating little Laila to your left. How was it watching your hometown burn? Just think – if you hadn't meddled with past events, it would still be standing. Sounds about right for a human who's been given too much power. I've seen this too many times."

"Leave her alone!" Irian demanded. The Master looked at her as though he knew he was winning.

"Have you told your new daughter how you became you yet?" he asked Irian.

Irian remembered the event in crystal clear detail. It had been 200 years ago, but it still felt as though it had only happened yesterday. She was much taller, with shoulder-length dark hair at the time. Not only was she a scientist working for the Master, but she was a close friend too. Her role consisted of creating biological mysteries beyond the dreams and nightmares of anyone on Gallifrey, all to serve a purpose for her friend, the Master's regime.

This kept going until Irian had got lost one time whilst meeting up with a new client. She arrived in one of the poorer regions of the Citadel, where she encountered some of the negative effects of the Master's rule over Gallifrey. People were begging, as well as dying from disease and poverty. Crime rates were incredibly high, as Irian walked past three different crime scenes trying to find her way out. Her eyes had been opened to the world that she never really knew until now.

A few days later, Irian was thinking about what she saw, whilst lying on the Master's balcony, with the Lady President herself, enjoying a drink together. The balcony stood high up on the Citadel's tallest building, 700 feet up, with a floorspace which encompassed the entire circumference of the tower. Whilst enjoying the tranquillity, which was very much unlike the poorer district that she had witness, it occurred to her. The Master had to be ousted for this to stop.

She got up from her recliner, and peered over the edge of the balcony.

"What's up?" asked the Master.

"I just felt as though I had to admire the skyline," Irian replied, "It's beautiful up here, isn't it?"

The Master got up and joined her. "It definitely is. And I own this place, so you are welcome to come and admire the view any time you like."

"Thanks," Irian replied, gratefully, although knowing that the Master's idea may not stick. She could see the Lady President leaning over the top. All she would have to do is push, and her weight would carry her over the edge. But could she really do it? Could she be the one to kill the Master and end this oppression? Did she really have it in her? She knew she couldn't, so she backed out.

Then she realised. She might not get this moment again. And even if she did, how many more people will have suffered and died because of the woman next to her? She shut her eyes. She didn't even notice what she had done, but when her eyes opened again, the Master had disappeared from the balcony altogether. Irian could not watch her fall, but instead collapsed on the floor. She had just murdered her friend. But maybe Gallifrey could be saved as a result.

Within a minute, the door to the tower burst open, as the Master's guards ran onto the balcony. Irian tried to escape, running to the other side of the tower. But guards came at her from left and right, cornering her on the edge. She peered over, and looked down. It was a very long way to fall. But maybe she would regenerate? Only if she did, she would be found before the process was complete and certainly executed afterwards. But what if she was regenerating before she hit the ground? Her regeneration cycle would allow her to fix her injuries from the fall, and maybe even allow her a chance of escape? It was the best shot she had now.

She climbed over the edge, holding onto the balcony for dear life. She could not look down. A guard looked over at her, pointing a gun.

"Either you come back up, or I shoot," he said.

"I'm not coming back up," Irian declared.

"Very well," said the guard, and shot.

Irian lost her grip, and began to fall. On the way down, she was able to regenerate. She fell for what seemed like an eternity, before hitting the ground a new woman. Being immediately after regeneration, her injuries healed very quickly, and she was able to get up and run. Maybe she could escape the Citadel? Although the place was littered with the police and the military looking for her. The only saving grace that she might have was that she looked different. Being in the Citadel, surrounded by people, telepathic recognition would surely get very confused. But she was going to get found, and it would be too late if she was so she had fifteen hours to get out, before being found would mean that her regeneration cycle would be over.

She needed these fifteen hours. On her way out, she was found and shot by the Master's secret police, but recovered almost immediately. Regeneration had many certain advantages. Finally, she escaped the Citadel, but with nothing left except a message that she had heard – Rassilon is returning. This brought her hope, and this was all she needed right now. Maybe in this thirteenth and final life that had been born from the Master's blood, she could do something right. Maybe she could even use her talents to bring life, rather than take it away.

And that was exactly what she had done with Laila, who had a shocked expression on her face as her mother, who she had thought of as a real inspiration, told her the story. But this did not matter to Laila. Irian had lived a much better and more deserving thirteenth life so far, and was still happy to be able to call her her adoptive mum.

The Master did not share this view, however.

"Revenge is a dish best served cold," he said. He pulled out a revolver – a technology incredibly still used by the Time Lords – and shot Irian with pinpoint accuracy in her left heart. Irian fell to the ground. Her right heart was still working, but it surely couldn't last much longer. Laila knelt down beside her mother.

"I'm proud of you, Laila," said Irian, gasping for breath, "I'm glad to have been able to bring you back. I want to you have my TARDIS."

"That won't be necessary, you can pull through," Laila said to her, once again having to fight tears. She had been through a lot lately.

"I'm afraid I can't. That's all my lives used up. But I've lived a long time now, and I've made some catastrophic mistakes. I'm sorry I wasn't the woman you thought I was."

"You are. I don't care about your past. Your latest life is what's important."

"Thank you" Irian replied, whilst breathing her last.

Laila wanted the space to be able to mourn Irian's loss, but the Master wouldn't allow it.

"I would shoot you too, Laila," the Master said, remorselessly, "But you'll just regenerate over and over. So that's boring. However, you don't know how to fly a TARDIS, I believe."

Laila stood up and looked at him, terrified. She didn't know how to fly a TARDIS.

"In two minutes and forty-three seconds," the Master continued, "this TARDIS will crash into the surface of the planet San Helios, unless you can stop it. You'll most likely die altogether from the explosion, but there's a chance you might regenerate again. In which case, you'll be stuck there. In which case, you'll be stranded on a desolate desert planet, with no signs of life. I suspect you'll have used up your regenerations in a few years' time. Have fun, goodbye!" The Master's doors closed, and he flew off.

Laila looked at the scanner. It showed the planet's surface drawing nearer and nearer. She looked desperately around the console, to look for clues on how to escape. A big red button with 'Distress call' on it sat there. She pressed it, hoping that somebody would receive it. Afterwards, she started trying different buttons and switches to see whether they would do anything. She couldn't make anything work. The planet drew closer and closer. She watched it on the scanner, frantically trying everything she could, starting off calmly and collectively, but beginning to turn her actions into a panic. Then she saw Irian's body lying on the floor by the doors. She knew where she wanted to be right now. She ran up to her deceased mother, knelt down and held her tight, waiting for death to take her too.

And then a change happened. Had the distress call actually worked? The doors flew open. Laila looked outside. And she did not like what she saw.


	11. Secrets of the Snow

Lord President Rassilon grew worried of his associates' disappearance. They should be back by now. But there was nothing. He had just attended a meeting with his council, after which Rassilon sat with his head in his hands, hoping that something would happen at some point. The timeline was still intact. But maybe they were supposed to die?

Acknal walked in. "Any signs?" he asked.

"Nothing," Rassilon replied, desperately.

Acknal moved closer. "Sometimes life just takes away what we want to keep the most," he stated, "It's a sad situation, but we have to mourn their loss, and whilst never forgetting, move on."

Laila looked out at the blue box that sat in front of her. It was much cleaner than the one she had seen earlier, but it was definitely the same box that had destroyed Ilunavik. Its doors opened, and behind them stood a slightly younger-looking man than the so-called Doctor that she had witnessed earlier, with a young woman standing beside him.

"We got your distress signal," said the Doctor, "We've come to tow you away from here. What is causing the problem?" He pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Fascinating," he commented, "You're human. But you've shown signs of recent regeneration. A human who can regenerate. I've only met one person like you before, and she's my wife."

"You destroyed my home town," hissed Laila, "Stay away from me."

Memories came back to the Doctor and Clara. "Hey Clara, remember when we got turned into Cybermen?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh yeah," replied Clara, "What even happened?"

"I had to live through 450 years of human history," the Doctor replied, "And then I remembered something I don't think I was supposed to…" He paused. "Oh, yes. That was dreadful. That really shouldn't have happened." He turned to Laila, "Are you Laila?" he asked.

Laila nodded. "So you remember me then?"

"Laila, I am so so sorry about destroying your town. That incarnation was engineered specifically to be a warrior, not a Doctor. I spent a long time trying to hide that version of me deep inside my memory."

Laila wasn't convinced by what he was saying, but he was all she had. "Take me to Gallifrey," she commanded, "Unless you want to kill me and finish off the job."

The Doctor looked down at Irian's corpse, lying beside her. "What happened," he asked.

Laila remembered the emotional scars that she had picked up in this life. "The Master killed her," she trembled, "There was nothing that could be done."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, "Let's give her a proper burial." He jumped ship, as did Clara, before the Doctor began pushing various buttons on the console. "I've created a tomb three doors down that corridor," he explained, pointing to a doorway, "She can be kept there."

It was a solemn affair, but Laila began to be filled with a real sense of hope again. This Doctor wasn't the man she had witnessed destroying her hometown. He was much more caring than that, and prepared to do anything he could to save whoever he could, regardless of stature or closeness to him.

* * *

A moment of silence took place in the Council room, where Rassilon and Acknal were placed. This was interrupted by the wheezing sound of two TARDISes, tethered together, materialising into the room. Rassilon stood up. Surely not? The TARDIS doors opened simultaneously, as the Doctor and Clara got out of one, and Laila emerged from the other.

"Somebody would like a word with you, Rassilon," stated the Doctor.

"How could you sit back and let my home be destroyed like that?" Laila exclaimed, full of fury.

"It had to be done," Rassilon replied, "The Cybermen had to be destroyed somehow."

"The Cybermen had to be destroyed, but not like that!" yelled the Doctor, "You could have created some kind of software virus to take out the Cybermen from the inside. You had a crashed Cybership on your planet. It shouldn't have taken any time at all!"

"Laila," Rassilon began, "I'm sorry this had to happen. I'm sure if you stay here, however, I'm sure we could find you a home here perfectly well."

"No thank you," Laila replied, "I want somebody here to teach me how to fly this TARDIS," she indicated the one that she had inherited, "And I will live this damned planet forever. I have twelve more lives, and I intend to live each one of them."

"You show great wisdom, Laila", observed Rassilon, "But you do not know what to do with this wisdom. You would be excellent as a member of my High Council."

Laila moved closer to Rassilon. "I would rather you had killed me with all my townsfolk than work for you. TARDIS instructor. Now," she snapped.

Rassilon passed Laila a touch-screen note sealed with the Seal of Rassilon. "Here," he said, "show the reception downstairs this, get what you want, plus some accommodation, and get out of my sight."

Laila turned and marched out of the room.

"Are you ever going to go back to the rest of the Universe?" the Doctor asked Rassilon. He had tried to find Gallifrey and bring it back, and he thought that despite everything, it was time to do it.

"The Master engineered a series of cracks that can take us from here to anywhere in the Universe," replied Rassilon, "We can get anywhere now however we like. There's no reason to leave."

"That's what I was afraid of. Sure, Gallifrey is one thing, but a thousand people on another planet, well, that's just beneath you, isn't it?" The Doctor whipped around hastily, and he and Clara walked into the TARDIS.

The Doctor showed a completely different level of self-control inside the TARDIS. "How could Rassilon pass off all those lives as unimportant?" he yelled.

"Are you sure you can't save them?" Clara asked.

"How am I supposed to save them now? They died. Everybody knows it happened. I can't go back over my timeline, Clara. The risks are too high."

"But nobody saw anybody dying," Clara pointed out.

"I see what you're saying, Clara," the Doctor replied desperately, "But it would be a horribly complex operation to save them now."

"Regeneration does change people. You could save a thousand lives. What happened to the Doctor who would do anything just to save one person?" A tear formed in her eye.

The Doctor looked at Clara, aghast over what he had just discovered he had said. He pulled a lever on the TARDIS console, allowing them to head to a new location.

* * *

Clara rummaged around a shelf. She was looking to try and steal a medium-sized metal box, but wasn't finding it very easily. The building was not guarded at all, but she still had to apply a level of stealth, so as not to disturb any sleeping inhabitants elsewhere in the building.

After much searching, she found it. She walked down a corridor holding the box in her arms. She approached a room, in which the Doctor was kneeling down next to a dangerous-looking cylindrical object. The object had one end removed, and a pipe leading inside, none of which was the case when the Doctor had first found it.

"One box of modified snow," reported Clara, placing it at the end of the pipe.

"Clara, you beauty," replied the Doctor. He opened up the box with his sonic screwdriver, and poured the contents down a funnel leading into the pipe. His hands were trying to shake with fear, but he wouldn't let them. Not at a crucial moment like this.

The Doctor placed the lid back on the end of the nuclear bomb. The object trembled as he sonicked it back in place, but remained intact. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's get out of here," he said to Clara, "The last thing we want is for us to get noticed by Rassilon." He and Clara headed for the TARDIS, before dematerialising, both knowing where they were headed.

The Prime Minister of Greenland sat reflectively in his office, in deep thought about the news that he had just received from Ilunavik. A whole town had just been wiped out, by an unknown body. He had no idea who would want to do such a thing. A terrorist attack or an act of war? And could this put the rest of Greenland, or other parts of the world in danger? The phone rang. More bad news? He picked it up.

"The people of Ilunavik aren't dead," came a voice, "They're just unconscious. And they need to be evacuated before they wake up."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" asked the Prime Minister, "Who are you?"

"If a blue box wrote the words _Ilunavik is saved_ in the sky over your city at this exact moment, would you believe me?"

"Um… what?"

At that moment, the door burst open, as a member of house staff rushed in. "You really should look at the sky right now," he said, excitedly.

The duo walked out onto the streets of Nuuk, Greenland's capital, where crowds were beginning to form. A blue box was rushing about in the sky over the sea, spelling out the words _Ilunavik is safe _in cloudy writing. The Doctor opened the door upon a cheering crowd. The Prime Minister looked shocked, and returned to his office.

Upon entry, the Prime Minister saw the TARDIS, sitting to the side of his desk. The door opened and the Doctor stepped out. "My name is the Doctor," he said, "And now we can save the people of Ilunavik. We need several teams of volunteers and professional rescue staff, all in protective gear against nuclear radiation." He looked excited about the prospects of what was to come.

Teams of people in protective gear flew over to Ilunavik to recover the people to safety. Most awoke within a few days, safe, because of the Doctor's efforts. Rassilon might have contributed largely to removing the Cybermen, but it was the Doctor who had saved those who needed saving from Rassilon. A thousand survivors that shouldn't have been. Plus the people of Nuuk got an entertaining airshow.

* * *

The Master watched the dematerialising TARDIS, eyes wide open with fear. He looked at the Cybermen trying to find a way of diffusing the bomb, before looking at his watch. He banged against the metal wall of the ship, frantically trying to find which panel it was that he wanted. He couldn't remember. Time was running out. He pulled out a primitive mobile phone – the Master liked his primitive tech. He dialled a number and held the phone to his ear.

"Which one is it again?" he asked.

"I can see you via our cameras," replied Acknal's voice, "The to the left of the one just in front of you,"

"Thank you." The Master put the phone back in his pocket, moved to his left, and pushed up the panel. An avalanche fell on top of him. A few seconds later, the ship blew up, and the Master fell out of the sky, surrounded by snow.


	12. Mass Conflict within the Council Room

A middle-aged-looking Time Lord wondered across the surface of the planet Mondas. He looked around to see a variety of different generations of dead Cyber tech lying across the area. Some of it stared directly at him, with eyes as cold and blank as a live Cyberman, and therefore just as deadly. Small evidence of life appeared around the area in the form of weeds – a hopeless life for those plants, who would be better off just about anywhere.

He approached the only operational building on the planet. It was certainly not a modest building by any means, with steel spanning as far as the Time Lord could see. However, the steel was not very well-polished, with rust beginning to form in several places along its blank walls. It could do with a bit of maintenance.

The Time Lord entered the building. His short, dark hair stood as far as it could on end, as he knew what was coming next. He approached the Cyber Controller, which sat in its chair.

"My name is Acknal," he stated, "I am the first Gallifreyan to escape the separate pocket universe which our planet has become stuck in, and I am here to allow you passage into our world."

"We know who you are," replied the Controller, "Your Lady President has contacted us to tell us about you."

"So you know what happens next?" asked Acknal.

"No."

"Right then." Acknal looked nervously towards a Cyberman standing to the Controller's left. "You there," he requested, "come and stand close to me. I do not mean any harm."

The Cyberman looked at the Controller. "Obey the Time Lord," instructed the Controller. The Cyberman moved towards Acknal, until it was face to face with him.

Acknal took a deep breath. "Kill me," he demanded. He closed his eyes.

The Cyberman puts its hand on Acknal's shoulder, and sent an electric pulse through his body, before letting go after a while. Immediately, Artron energy flowed around Acknal, which began the regeneration process. But this was no ordinary regeneration. It took much longer than usual, with Artron energy bursting a hole through the ceiling, through which the night sky was clearly visible. As the process took place, a crack familiar to Gallifrey appeared in the visible part of the sky. Once it had fully formed, the regeneration ceased, and Acknal had transformed into a young redhead.

"Pilot your Cybership through the crack," he instructed, "the Master will meet you on the other side, from the point where we are ready for you. I'll go and find my TARDIS in your scrapyard. If I can find it seeing how it looks like all of your junk." He mimicked trying to find an identical object among others. The Cybermen all stared at him blankly. "I'll… just go," Acknal said after a while. He turned and left the building.

* * *

Many years had passed since this event, and Ackna still very clearly remembered everything that had happened. He and Rassilon stood in the council room alone together, following the Doctor's and Laila's angry exits.

The door burst open, as the Master entered the room. "Rassilon!" he said, "At last. It's been a while."

Rassilon looked stunned. "Master?" he said, "How? I thought you were dead!"

"Look to your left," replied the Master.

Rassilon looked at Acknal. "I arranged for the Cybermen to come here," mocked Acknal, "Bet you didn't expect that did you?"

"You're a traitor," sneered Rassilon, angrily.

"You think? What the Master doesn't realise is that I knew that the fall of the Cybermen would bring him down. And it did. No Time Lords harmed. Just you becoming Lord President."

"You're bluffing," observed the Master, with more hope than confidence.

"Am I?" asked Acknal. He paused. "To tell you the truth," he informed, "I'm impartial to working alongside either of you. But I want to make the right decision here, so I'll let you impress me."

"You really want to work with that swine?" asked Rassilon, "after everything he's done?"

"Ah, but Rassilon isn't perfect," argued the Master, "He destroyed an innocent human town, just to get his way. You act like you're the good guy, but really, you're no better than me, are you, Lord President?"

Rassilon realised that a change of tack was in order. "You're forgetting who I am. That man there is just a spec compared to me. I created the Time Lords a billion years ago, and I will be here forever. I am immortal. The Master hasn't been around for a fraction of that time."

"His mate helped," interrupted the Master, "He just claimed all the credit."

"You do not want to be against me," seethed Rassilon. He pointed his powerful metal glove towards a chair, which disintegrated into nothingness. "That could be you," he said, "And there's more I can do." He pointed towards the Master, who experienced a yellow glow around him. A moment later, a woman stood in his place, who at first didn't realise what had just happened to her. Acknal recognised her immediately – she was what the Master had been previously.

"I seem to be a definite improvement over how I was, Rassilon," observed the Master, "maybe this is how you secretly always wanted me." She turned to Acknal, who was standing alongside Rassilon at the other end of the council table. "Rassilon might be immortal," she said, "but what if I were to freeze you rather than kill you?" She put her hand into her pocket, and pulled out a laser screwdriver. She aimed it at one of the surviving chairs, and turned it into solid granite. "Now who's looking like the best bet?"

Acknal pulled out a gun. He pointed it at the Master. "This gun could kill you stone dead," he said, "None of that regeneration business."

"Just imagine," said the Master, "I bet you've always wanted an attractive lady by your side, haven't you? With me, you could live that dream."

Acknal turned towards Rassilon. "Don't let her get on your mind," said Rassilon.

Acknal pointed his gun up in the air. He fired, deliberately missing both Rassilon and the Master. "Let me tell you what's really going on, here," he explained, "You two are going to bring each other down, and I shall make the most of the turmoil, fix it in the eyes of the people, and get myself in as Lord President."

Both Rassilon and the Master pointed their equipment in Acknal's direction. Then it occurred to Rassilon. Acknal wasn't the threat here. The Master was. He returned to the Master, and fired with his frightening metal glove. The Master fired her screwdriver, resisting Rassilon's attack. She moved it over in Acknal's direction, beaming the death ray from Rassilon directly at him. Acknal disappeared just as the chair had done, only this time with a small scream before he went. His plan had failed, and he was dead.

"That just leaves you and me, Lord President," noticed the Master. She climbed onto the surface of the table. "For the planet?"

"Gallifrey is a democracy, now, Master," replied Rassilon, "Kill me and you'll have to be re-elected."

"Then I shall tell everybody how you were responsible for all of the ills that took place. Rassilon, the deceptive liar! I got myself in once, and I can do it again."

"For the planet it is then," replied Rassilon. He climbed upon the table, and held out his hand before the Master could even blink. He hit her with a ray from the glove, but did not disintegrate her. Instead, she changed back into her most recent, male self. Rassilon hit him again. He kept changing between the two forms over and over again, but just about managed to hold his/her laser screwdriver in his/her hand. He/she fired at Rassilon, who was hit and turned into stone. The Master collapsed, in his more recent male form. He had done it. Rassilon was defeated. He could go about becoming Lord President now.

He walked up to the Rassilon statue. "Shouldn't have mucked about for so long," he said, "Gallifrey can now fall into my hands." He gave the wry familiar to him, before turning and walking away. However, as soon as he reached the other end of the table, a voice called out.

"So long as I am wearing this," Rassilon replied, "I can unfreeze myself."

The Master turned and stared at Rassilon. But it was too late to respond. Rassilon went for the final blow, to disintegrate the Master. The Master stared at the move, terrified over what was about to happen.

* * *

A message appeared on the Doctor's TARDIS scanner. _Gallifrey needs your help. Acknal,_ it read, and provided co-ordinates. The Doctor sprung immediately into action, following these co-ordinates, which would lead him through the crack and straight into the Citadel's council room.

The TARDIS materialised in the centre of the table, interrupting Rassilon's attack on the Master. The Doctor and Clara stepped out of it, onto the table, much to the two duellers' surprise.

"You scratched my paintwork, Rassilon," the Doctor complained, "it's going to take me ages to get that out." He tutted.

"You're in our way, Doctor," said the Master.

"Yes I am," replied the Doctor, "Now, whoever wins this, I will tell all of Gallifrey brutally murdered the other one. And I am the one who saved Gallifrey, so I'm guessing I'm quite popular here."

Neither Rassilon nor the Master could argue with this.

"This break was all I needed," stated Rassilon, "We have a time lock prison cell ready just for you, Master. By order of the Lord President of Gallifrey, you shall be sentenced to life in that cell." The room trembled as he spoke.

"You'll have to stop me first," taunted the Master. He fired his laser screwdriver at the Doctor. Clara saw this happening, and pushed the Doctor away from the shot. However, she could not get away from the ray herself. She was hit, and a Clara-shaped statue stood in her place. The Doctor looked at Clara, aghast over the situation.

"Stupid companions of yours," said the Master, "always getting in the way." He aimed at the Doctor again, who hid behind Clara.

Rassilon fired his hand at Clara, who unfroze. She gasped. "That's better," she said, before she was turned back into stone again by the Master, only facing the other way.

"Harm her, and the same applies," announced the Doctor. He found a signal on his sonic screwdriver, just next to Rassilon, who unfroze Clara again. Clara rushed towards the Master, while the Doctor followed his signal in the other direction.

Clara constantly changed between stone and flesh. She was starting to feel sick, due to the constant changes that were happening to her. But this wasn't going to stop her from reaching the Master.

Meanwhile, the Doctor found the signal he was looking for. He stood to Rassilon's left, where Acknal had died. He found the link which opened the crack – what remained when Acknal had disappeared.

Clara had finally reached the Master. It took her several attempts, but she was there. She went straight for the laser screwdriver. The Master was unable to turn Clara back into stone from that angle. Rassilon used his hand to change the Master into his previous female self. During the change, the Master lost his/her grip of the screwdriver, allowing Clara to take it.

"You wouldn't know what to do with that, though, would you Clara?" the Master teased, wary of the fact that as the Doctor applied his sonic screwdriver to the link, a crack was just starting to form behind her.

"Easy," observed Clara, "Just push the button on the current setting." She pointed the screwdriver at the Master, and pressed, turning the Master into stone.

The crack on the floor behind the Master opened up. It seemed as though it wouldn't be needed, but something unexpected happened around the Master. Her statue showed the yellow glow that had been happening when she/he changed between her/his two forms courtesy of Rassilon. The most recent, male form stood in front of Clara, who began to tremble a little.

"Give me that!"" yelled the Master. But before he could do anything, Rassilon pushed him back with his glove, causing him to fall through the crack.

"Where's he gone?" Rassilon asked.

"A primitive jungle planet," replied the Doctor, "Somewhere where he's going to find it impossible to escape from, but where he can survive."

"Good choice," replied Rassilon.

Clara staggered towards the Doctor and Rassilon. She looked pale.

"Clara, you were ace," began the Doctor.

"I feel like I'm going to faint," Clara complained.

"Get some rest." The Doctor gave Clara a leg up into the TARDIS. "I'll be with you shortly."

Clara closed the door of the TARDIS behind her, leaving the Doctor and Rassilon in the council room.

"When we leave, I'm going to close up that crack for good," the Doctor announced.

"Why?" asked Rassilon.

"Twenty-one more years with you in power. I've seen what you are capable of with contact with the rest of the Universe. Twenty-one years for you to make Gallifrey great again, without that contact, then we'll see what can happen."

"You can't save everybody, Doctor. Until you learn that, how many more are you going to be unable to save yourself?"

"You can try. That's what counts." The Doctor left Rassilon, and headed into the TARDIS, which disappeared through the crack, before the crack close up behind it. Rassilon sat in his chair at the head of the table, thinking about what had just happened. In his mind, he wasn't the liability. The Doctor was. And he was going to do whatever was necessary to prevent the Doctor from doing harm to Gallifrey.

* * *

**AN: Thank you very much for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. If you could let me know exactly what you though, it would be incredibly helpful.**

**Thanks =)**


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